


Anything for You

by dbzkink



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Culture, Alien Gender/Sexuality, Alien Sex, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Bottom Piccolo (Dragon Ball), Bottom Vegeta (Dragon Ball), Claiming Bites, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay, Gay Sex, Genderfluid, Intersex, M/M, Mates, Mating, Mating Bond, Mating Rituals, Past Rape/Non-con, Romance, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Smut, Top Piccolo, Top Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 80,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25940548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dbzkink/pseuds/dbzkink
Summary: A future AU set in a world where Earth has a pretty mixed population of various alien species and humans.Piccolo, the lead male dancer at his company, wakes in a stranger's bed and sneaks away only to regret it as more of the night comes back to him. His distraction at his rehearsal doing lifts with the female lead, Bulma, leads to a nasty fall, breaking several bones. When his surgeon turns out to be a Saiyan named Vegeta, and the man whose bed he woke up in, things get awkward and interesting.
Relationships: Android 18/Krillin (Dragon Ball), Broly/Vegeta (Dragon Ball), Bulma Briefs/Yamcha, Bulma/Dende, Piccolo/Vegeta (Dragon Ball), Tights Briefs/Raditz
Comments: 114
Kudos: 44





	1. Snap Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> Graphic gay sex ahead, don't like, don't read. Piccolo, and other Nameks, are also intersex, meaning in this instance that they have both sexual reproductive capabilities: eggs and sperm. It does not imply anything about one's sexuality or gender, it's just how you can breed. I do go into my headcanon Namek reproductive biology, and in later chapters there are some pretty graphic alien sex scenes that are definitely NOT human. Reeeeally graphic. So if you're squicked out by gender fluidity, or by reproductive organs you're unfamiliar with, or by alien reproduction, you're gonna wanna skip this one. There is also alien medical stuff that is maybe weird for some people, I don't know since I'm always like, "Oooo, tell me more about the structure of your headcanon alien genitalia," but I get that most people probably spend less time thinking about alien bits. If you like thinking about alien bits, you can always hit me up on Twitter @dbzkink, lol.  
>   
> There is reference to rape, but no detailed descriptions or anything, but be warned if that triggers you.  
>   
> Piccolo is a ballet dancer. I have a very basic knowledge of ballet, but love it, so sorry if my stuff is all wrong and I piss of all the people that actually dance out there. Know that I love and admire you and do not mean to butcher something that's important to you. Feel free to comment how I can fix the dance stuff.  
>   
> Vegeta is an orthopedic surgeon and physical therapist in this AU. I realize no one in real life would do this, but in my little AU, since most aliens are super strong, but also can't be anesthetized, there's a market for super strong surgeons who can also help manage the superhuman strength of their patients. All my knowledge of physical therapy is from all the effing PT I've had to do in my life. I wish Veggie had been my PT, yum. But yeah, it's probably riddled with stupidity, but I'm just too lazy to do research for the tiny amount of plot that I use to cushion my porn.  
>   
> In this AU Saiyans and Nameks (and other alien species and androids) are super strong and heal relatively quickly, but they can't fly or use chi, but they're much, much stronger than humans.
> 
> Thanks for reading, comments and kudos are always appreciated!  
> My ko-fi is [here](Ko-fi.com/dbzkink).

The gloom of dawn startled Piccolo awake. His black-out blinds must be up, but that didn’t make sense, the cleaners hadn’t come the day before, and Piccolo hardly ever opened them. Piccolo blinked in the dim light and his head throbbed. Really throbbed.

He looked around. Where the fuck was he? He took a shaky breath, starting to panic. He smelled something divine. Oh, fuck, no, _someone_ divine. Piccolo got hard just from the guy’s smell. He must be at the guy’s place. But Piccolo never stayed with his hookups. And he couldn’t remember a thing. And…oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

Piccolo eased himself off the bed, thankful for his dancer’s grace and strength as he practically floated across the floor, slipped on his jeans, yanked on his shirt, palmed his keys and his phone. As he eased shut the front door of the flat (it was a _nice_ flat), he felt a breath of relief that he hadn’t woken his mystery host. He restrained his urge to sprint out of the building and only really relaxed once he was in a cab, having managed to say his address without his voice shaking.

He groped for the night before. His memory was like a shattered mosaic with missing tiles, but he started to see part of the picture, as he was able to step away. When he began to clear some of the rubble, what he remembered was incredibly hot. Insanely hot. No wonder he had stayed. He was surprised he wasn’t walking funny, especially having never bottomed before. Well, not really.

The more of the picture he could make out, the more his stomach started to hurt. He regretted leaving like he had, sneaking out like he was…ashamed. It was a dick move. Piccolo stepped out of the cab, paid absently and hurried up to his own flat to go back to bed, grateful he didn’t have rehearsal with this beast of a hangover.

Stepping into his flat, his phone chimed. Hope that it would be his mystery host flared, but it was immediately extinguished by the realization that he had just snubbed the guy. Piccolo groped for the guy’s address so he could go back, try to sneak back into bed, but he came up blank. He held his head and tried to even remember the man’s name, maybe he could look him up online and get him a message that he’d had to run off to work and didn’t want to wake him. Anything but just…just…just disappearing.

But no name came. Piccolo looked through his phone and gasped. There were a lot of selfies with the man, and fuck if he wasn’t hotter than the fucking sun, but no contact information. No texts between him and any new numbers. Shit.

He groaned once for losing the man’s name, number, and address to drunkenness, but again when he saw the chime was just a reminder that he _did_ have rehearsal on this Saturday, because Bulma had demanded they nail their new lift as it was ruining their flow on regular rehearsal days. Fuck. Piccolo’s heart ached at his rash, panicked decision that morning. Now to have to go fucking dance with a headache like a gunshot wound and nausea like he was just carrying vomit in his throat for fun? Piccolo sighed. Maybe dancing, especially doing this fucking lift over and over and over, would dull the hurt and he could begin to forget about his mystery man.

He facepalmed when he remembered the other reason their lift was going poorly. Goku, their typical spotter, and their typical male second, had been out sick most of the season. Yamcha was the next best thing, since Piccolo’s protégé, Gohan, had left the nest to go dance with their rival company, where he would likely be primo within a year or two. Yamcha was the reason Piccolo had to dance with a hangover. Yamcha had proclaimed Saturday morning the only time all weekend that he could spot. Piccolo groaned again. Yamcha was a shitty spotter even when Piccolo was sober. Today was going to be a fucking nightmare. Just like it had started.

He showered and hurried to the theater (another Bulma request, since she thought they might as well start working on stage placement) instead of the studio. He grabbed the largest coffee money could buy. His mind circled the night before. Why had he stayed? He’d had plenty of hot hookups before, why had he stayed with this one? It wasn’t unusual for Piccolo to go home with guys instead of bringing them to his place. He found it easier to leave and claim he didn’t sleep well in other beds than to kick someone out of his. 

Piccolo didn’t know whether to be relieved or horrified that he would likely never see the man again. Y-City had eight million people. Piccolo couldn’t even dredge up what neighborhood he’d lived in he’d fled in such stupid panic that morning.

A pang of heartsick misery joined the baseline misery of his hangover as Piccolo remembered the man’s rumbling laughter. The way it felt against Piccolo’s skin. The touch of his rough, powerful hands. And the body on him. Piccolo had been dancing professionally for many, many years, and had danced since he was three, his body was incredible. So he very rarely felt…outdone…in that department, but he had last night. The mystery man’s body left _nothing_ to be desired. It was perfect.

More worrying than the nearly hard-on inducing memories of how hot their night had been in the man’s flat was the lingering impression of _fun_ they had had before ever getting into bed. Piccolo remembered his own laughter from the night before too. Piccolo missed having fun. The last couple years, as their company had grown in prestige and Piccolo had become a big name in dance circles were wonderful, but they also wore him down. He hadn’t had much of a personal life beyond his semi-regular Friday night drinking and hooking up. He told himself he didn’t want anything more. He didn’t need anything more. And he hadn’t. But he did now. Like an ache in his bones.

Bulma was also amazing as a prima ballerina, but she could be taxing and dramatic. She was Piccolo’s best friend, but that only made things worse because she felt fine coming at him for even the slightest misplaced foot, a turn two degrees shy of where it should have ended. Lately she’d been distracted too. Piccolo was certain she was secret-fucking Yamcha. Krillin, their choreographer, was also driving Piccolo crazy, not with anything dance related, but because he was depressed about being single. Maybe now Piccolo could commiserate.

Piccolo’s last relationship had fizzled pretty quickly when it became apparent that he hadn’t been interested in Piccolo, he’d been interested in the dancer “scene.” He’d thought Piccolo was his ticket in, but Piccolo was an introvert and rarely fraternized with other dancers aside from his friendship with Bulma.

He’d been an alien too, not a Namek, like Piccolo, but still many humans seemed to think that all aliens must be basically the same, leading his coworkers to all constantly speculate about when they’d get married. Given that many humans also wished all aliens could be relegated to ghettos or special settlements, Piccolo found any of this type of human generalization across species that had literally originated in different galaxies to be irritating. Luckily, the humans had also finally realized that nearly all the alien species that had colonized Earth were strong enough that Earth weapons were useless against them.

Piccolo stopped on the back steps of the theater, another powerful memory hitting him from the night before: the scent of the man, the way his skin smelled when Piccolo pressed his mouth to it. The taste of the man. Earlier parts of the evening fell into place. The bar where Piccolo had met him: starting his flirtation by ordering a drink right over the man’s head Piccolo was so much taller. He ordered one for the man too, since he had sort of cut in line. They began playfully bantering right away, that growling laugh making Piccolo’s heart race from the very first time he heard it. Piccolo could see the man’s delicious smirk. Taste it, even.

Piccolo stepped into the gloom of the theater with a heavy sigh. He had no time or energy for a relationship anyway, so it was just as well. It would implode and Piccolo never wanted to hurt the man. Well, more than he likely just had. Something in his memory screamed in anguish, thinking about hurting the man. Like maybe Piccolo had hurt him more than he realized with his shotgun-blasted memory.

Piccolo’s hypothesis about Bulma fucking Yamcha proved valid. They were fucking backstage. Piccolo ignored them and went to get changed. He cleared his throat as they flirted after they’d finished. Bulma’s face turned bright red and she said, “Oh jeez, Picc! I didn’t think you’d be early!”

“Just get your shoes on and warm up so we can get started, Bulma. I don’t want to spend all day on this shit.”

“Why are you so prickly? Krillin’s not even here yet.”

“Krillin’s coming? Fuck. There goes my Saturday,” Piccolo grumbled, but maybe that was best. He couldn’t seem to stop freaking out about the mistake he’d made this morning. He really wished he’d at least left the man a note.

Krillin arrived as Piccolo finished his warm up and stretching routine. The grueling day began, Piccolo’s mind finally distracted by his movements as he and Bulma moved seamlessly through the lead-up to the lift that kept giving them trouble. 

The move they kept flubbing was a one-handed lift, Piccolo’s long, powerful arm balancing Bulma by her hips in a graceful arc. Then he swung her down over his other arm, around his head and up onto the other hand. They repeated it in reverse before a two-handed, overhead counter-spin where Piccolo spun clockwise while he turned Bulma counterclockwise. It finished with a dramatic drop, Piccolo hooked his hand around her waist and swung her down between his legs, and she would bend backward nearly touching her head to the ground and snap upright. The final stage was Piccolo spinning low and using his shoulder to lift her up, taking a circuit around the backup dancers, Bulma balancing in a split on his shoulders.

They began the lift and failed around the second arm. Again and again and again. Piccolo, normally even-tempered and patient as long as Bulma was putting in the work, snapped, “Damnit, Bulma! Every fucking time!”

“Again, come on, you two. We’re not stopping for a tantrum, Piccolo,” Krillin said.

Bulma snarked, “You’re swinging me too slow, Picc. I tell you every single time. Don’t blame me, I can’t keep the momentum!”

“Don’t fucking blame me for this part. The drop and the shoulder lift, are all me, I know that, but this is yours. Stay rigid, for fuck’s sake!”

“Shut it, both of you two, man, what’s gotten into you, Piccolo?” Krillin asked.

Piccolo growled, but got back to work. Yamcha’s shitty spotting was making it hard for him to concentrate on doing the lift because he was always half-terrified of Bulma getting hurt. His spotting was even worse than usual because he kept just trying to get a hand on Bulma’s tits or ass every time they came out of part of the sequence.

Piccolo’s hangover was relentless, just like the part of his brain that kept whispering, _What did you throw away this morning?_ over and over, as if he hadn’t felt shitty enough thinking about it one time. Those things combined with Yamcha’s worthless spotting, and the fact that he and Bulma seemed to be getting _worse_ not better made Piccolo livid. Infuriated. He moved into the second half of the lift, Bulma having flopped her way through the arms at least. Then, to complete his shitty fucking day, Yamcha stepped on his foot. Piccolo stumbled and knew Yamcha was not in position to catch Bulma. Piccolo saw with awful clarity that if he dropped Bulma, she would be badly hurt, but if he didn't, he was going to fall.

And he did. Hard.

The sound of his wrist shattering and his ankle dislocating and breaking made Piccolo want to vomit. Piccolo saved Bulma from a nasty concussion, at the very least, and possibly a broken neck as well. He roared from rage as much as pain. His hip throbbed and he hoped that wasn’t broken too. Yamcha made a lame apology, took one look at Piccolo’s face, and fled.

Krillin was apoplectic, looking at Piccolo’s destroyed joints. Bulma raced for her phone and returned, breathless, and gasped, “A guy I dated a while ago is an amazing PT, and he works with the best ortho surgeon in the country. She’s at Regional, he’s gonna meet us there. An ambulance is on the way, Picc.”

She folded gracefully down to cradle his rapidly swelling wrist in her lap, kissing his forehead. She whispered, “I’m so fucking sorry, Picc,” and her tears dripped down on him.

“You’re not the one who fucking tripped me,” he said, all his anger at her draining away with her tears.

“I know, but he was distracted because, um, well, you know. He’s scared to come talk to you.”

“He should be, that little bitch. I will fucking kill him the next time I see him.”

“Could you not? For me?”

Piccolo softened and grumbled, “Fine. I’ll only tell him he’s a fucking idiot. Is that allowed?”

She nodded and swiped away her tears. They refilled as soon as her eyes drifted down to his ankle. He took a deep breath and let his own settle on the mangled joint. Both his wrist and ankle were ballooning painfully. Namek’s soft-tissue injuries healed much more quickly than humans', but their bones generally didn’t. Piccolo tried not to think about the fact that he could see already neither were clean breaks. Surgery was just around the corner for him and Nameks didn’t tolerate anesthesia or pain killers at all. They had special tables for Nameks and other aliens, heavy duty immobilizers made from alloys the Saiyans brought to Earth. Saiyans were also impossible to anesthetize.

Piccolo allowed himself to pass out in the ambulance, but as they wheeled him into the ER, he came awake like someone had hit him with serious voltage. Because they had. His body buzzed with electric pleasure as his nose filled with the heady of scent of the man from the night before. The mystery man. Elation made Piccolo’s heart race, but it was quickly followed by his stomach trying to crawl out his ass with horror that he would have to face the amazing hookup he’d walked out on like a complete fucking asshole.

A jacked, perfect body in blue scrubs was the first thing Piccolo saw when he dared to open his eyes. The handsome, grim face with its wild tornado of black hair—Saiyan hair. The man approached while talking to someone behind him, but Piccolo saw the moment the man smelled Piccolo. His Saiyan eyes blew up, the onyx, iris-less pupils growing wide, his eyelids briefly trying to flutter down, and his nostrils flared. Saiyans were notorious for their expert noses. More memories that had been shattered pieced themselves together in Piccolo’s mind and he struggled not to get hard. Fuck. The man would smell his arousal. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Bulma was oblivious to all the things her alien friend was experiencing with his alien hookup. Piccolo sighed that at least that couldn’t possibly be Bulma’s ex because he’d slept with Piccolo. Fucked Piccolo like he was a professional anal fucking machine.

But Piccolo had to swallow a mixed groan of desperate hope and abject horror when Bulma hurried over to the man and kissed his cheek. Brought the man, whose face looked as conflicted Piccolo felt over to Piccolo’s stretcher as they wheeled him into the ER. 

Bulma said, “Oh, Vegeta, thank you so much for meeting us. This is Piccolo. He’s the male lead of my company. Our spotter accidentally tripped him and Piccolo saved me from probably a split skull and maybe a broken neck. But that meant…” Bulma gestured to Piccolo’s destroyed joints. “Can your friend fix it?”

Vegeta’s eyes met Piccolo’s and a faint blush—gods he was cute when he blushed—flowered across his cheeks. He said to Bulma, “Fill out his paperwork. I’ll take Mr. Piccolo up to Dr. 18. She’s the best there is. If anyone can fix him, it’s her. And me.”

Vegeta’s eyes kept darting to Piccolo’s body, looking at it a little hungrily, before angrily furrowing his brow. He shook his head. Unfortunately several people were in the elevator with them so Piccolo didn’t feel he could say anything to Vegeta, but he desperately wanted to apologize and beg for another chance.

As Vegeta wheeled him off the elevator, Vegeta preempted Piccolo bringing up their heated night by asking, “Where’s your pain at?”

“I guess an eight in the ankle and a seven in the wrist. Stupid fucking hip is rolling at about a five,” Piccolo grumbled and took a breath to continue.

Vegeta cut him off, “Any prior injuries to either joint?”

Piccolo thought long and hard, dancing was a rough gig on joints, and Piccolo, at seven feet tall, made his joints work against a lot of leverage. He answered, “Nothing like this. I sprained my wrist about seven years ago, but nothing to my ankle. No breaks.”

Vegeta. A Saiyan. At least now Piccolo knew his name and species. Piccolo’s stomach ached he wished so badly that he’d said goodbye that morning. He was such an idiot.

Vegeta wheeled him deeper in the bowels of the hospital. Piccolo made as if to speak again and Vegeta said, “Have you ever had surgery before?”

“No…” Piccolo said, whinier than he meant to say it. Piccolo handled pain fairly well. But there was pain and there was people bolting your bones back together while you were awake. Before Piccolo could say more, they were joined by a Saiyan nurse who did X-rays and took his vitals.

The nurse and Vegeta spoke in growling Saiyan, which sounded like fighting, Russian leopards. Vegeta’s rumbling laugh washed over Piccolo and he had never wanted anything more than to make Vegeta laugh more. To make him that happy. To make himself happy just by hearing that deep, gravelly sound. Such a fucking idiot. And of course he had to be Bulma’s ex.

Vegeta and the Saiyan nurse took Piccolo down another hallway, bantering the whole way. Piccolo willed the nurse away. But to no avail. 

They began securing him in the dense, metal restraining table. Piccolo vowed not to cry. Vegeta introduced him to the surgeon, a severe looking blond woman, beautiful and a little scary. Dr. 18. She would fix Piccolo’s ankle and Vegeta, who it turned out was not just a stellar PT, but a renowned surgeon, would do his wrist. They were both fast and worked almost exclusively on aliens, so they walked him through how surgery without anesthesia would go.

Piccolo willed himself not to cry in front of Vegeta as they put in a mouthguard so he wouldn’t crack his teeth. On his unbroken hand, they restrained the fingers so he didn’t break them in a fist.

Vegeta held his eyes and said in a calm voice, “Pass out if you can, don't fight your body on that. Let it take you away. I’ll keep you alive and safe.”

Piccolo wondered if Vegeta said that to all his patients, or just to Piccolo. Piccolo made it about two minutes before he wept, and maybe five before he fainted, only waking intermittently to pain like he’d never known, his body pushing his brain back into unconsciousness every time he surfaced.

When he came to without new pain adding to the mix, he knew they must be done. They would keep him restrained for a while to make sure he didn’t accidentally undo their hard work if his body tried to react to the agony in an injurious way.

Dr. 18 said, “Don’t worry Mr. Piccolo, you let Vegeta work his magic and you’ll dance again,” then she left them.

Vegeta looked frantic until the nurse came back in and fussed around with Piccolo’s cast and boot. The nurse made to leave and it was clear that Vegeta needed to stay for some professional reason, but every single word of his body language screamed that he wanted to flee.

Piccolo opened his mouth to speak and Bulma and Krillin rushed into the room, prattling at him pointlessly. Vegeta started to explain the PT process to Krillin so he would have a timeline for Piccolo’s return and Krillin waved him off, which Piccolo thought was rather bold of the little man since Vegeta looked like he could murder Krillin with only his eyebrows.

Krillin said, “No worries, Mr. Vegeta, we have an in-house PT who specializes in dance injuries.”

Vegeta’s face went to war with itself. Was he relieved or anguished? Piccolo wasn’t sure Vegeta even knew. “Very well, Mr. Krillin.” Dr. 18 stepped back in to speak with them and Vegeta continued, “This is Dr. 18, she did Mr. Piccolo’s ankle. Talk to her about it. His ankle was a mess.” The “mister” made Piccolo want to cry even more, like he and Vegeta weren’t on a first name basis. But Piccolo supposed if you forgot the first name of someone you fucked, and then left without saying goodbye, you probably got demoted back to the “mister” category.

Vegeta left, but not before his eyes lit on Piccolo’s one more time, snapping away as though he were embarrassed that Piccolo had met his gaze. Had caught him looking.

Krillin’s jaw actually dropped as he stammered and tried to introduce himself to Dr. 18, shaking her hand like he would never let it go. She gave him the barest hint of a smile, which was more than Piccolo had seen her give anyone else, then said, “Are you second-guessing my medical advice? Because I don’t care if your PT specializes in dance injuries. This isn’t a dance injury. Vegeta specializes in making doomed joints function normally again. These breaks are severe and Mr. Piccolo’s height and weight will make healing the ankle a particular challenge, even though he’s a Namek.”

Krillin was speechless for a long moment, then spluttered, “I…yeah…if you think Vegeta’s the best, that’s enough for me. Yeah. Whatever you think is best, Dr. 18.” Piccolo expected Krillin’s eyes to turn to cartoon hearts at any moment.

One of Dr. 18’s eyebrows lifted the slightest bit. She said, “Excellent. Probably the first week or so it would be great if he had someone staying with him. Do you have a girlfriend, Mr. Piccolo?”

Piccolo chuckled. “No. And no boyfriend either.” _Thanks to my own fucking stupidity._

“Hmm…you’ll need someone strong enough to help you get around,” Dr. 18 paused and tapped rapidly on her phone. After a long moment, Vegeta returned.

He growled, “What, 18? I’m swamped today.”

“If I can finagle your schedule, could you run Mr. Piccolo’s residential care? He’s so big and muscular that he presents most other species with insurmountable obstacles to his care,” she said and looked Piccolo over. She turned back to Vegeta and Piccolo wondered if she knew, somehow, as she continued, “And you’re the only one who’s going to get that ankle working like a primo needs it working,” giving Vegeta a long look.

Vegeta crossed his arms tightly, showing off their muscle definition so beautifully Piccolo wanted to whimper with pleasure. “Mr. Krillin has already dismissed me—“

“Nope! I was mistaken! So wrong! I take everything I said back. Please work with him. I didn’t realize the extent of his injuries,” Krillin said, his eyes on Dr. 18, not Vegeta.

Panic flitted across Vegeta’s features before he said coolly, “Perhaps we should let Mr. Piccolo choose his own path of care?”

Piccolo couldn’t recall the last time he’d been flustered, but he was flustered as fuck now. He opened his mouth, watched Vegeta, and tried to read the Saiyan’s expression. His face gave nothing away. Would it insult him further to deny Vegeta? Or would it make him miserable to have to care for Piccolo? Piccolo wanted the best care, would die if he couldn’t dance again, and, incidentally, he also wanted another shot at Vegeta. A shot he wouldn’t fuck up.

“Um, well, I, if…” Piccolo stammered, paused, took a deep breath. “Mr. Vegeta’s the best, and I want the best,” Piccolo said looking into Vegeta’s eyes, but Vegeta turned away and Piccolo saw his jaw muscle flickering as Vegeta gritted his teeth. 

Unease and anger warped Vegeta’s face. He hid it away behind his professional mien and said, “Of course. Vegeta is fine, please, no ‘Mr.’”

“Likewise, just Piccolo, please.”

Vegeta nodded courteously and said, “I…I…” Vegeta faltered, but forged ahead, “I can drive you home if I’m doing home care. Or we can call you a cab and I can meet you.”

Krillin trailed out after her when Dr. 18 said, “Great, I’ll go get the paperwork going and you can get him out of the table and into a wheelchair, Vegeta. You need a nurse, or you got it?”

Vegeta said, “I’m fine.”

Bulma kissed Piccolo’s cheek and Vegeta’s and bid them farewell.

They were alone. They were also awkwardly silent, amplifying the muffled beeps of monitors, the soft padding of comfortable shoes, and a murmuring of suffering diffused in the air. Piccolo dragged his eyes up to meet Vegeta’s.

Vegeta swallowed hard, moving warily toward the table. He looked out the window, escaping eye contact. He set about removing the monitors before opening all the bindings on the table quickly. He gently pulled Piccolo’s IV. He said, “Do you want a hand getting dressed?”

Piccolo didn’t know whether to read anything into his use of the word “want” not “need.” Piccolo assumed that being a needy bitch wouldn’t help his case, so he answered, “No, I can manage.”

“I’ll step outside. Please call if you need help. A fall would be terrible right now.”

Piccolo had never felt so shitty about a one night stand. Vegeta looked like Piccolo had divorced him after seventy-five years of marriage, taken his mother’s wedding ring, and burned their children at the stake. This was why he never slept over. It complicated everything. It implied a different level of interest. Piccolo must have had a reason, beyond extreme drunkenness, for staying over. Piccolo had been very drunk before and made his inebriated way home. Why had he stayed at Vegeta’s place? Vegeta seemed hurt and embarrassed, not angry, though was doing an excellent job pretending they didn’t even know each other, especially given the fact that Piccolo probably still had Vegeta’s cum leaking out his ass.

But what should Piccolo say? _I think I stayed over because I liked you a lot but I can’t remember because I had too much to drink and actually I have major issues about sleeping over, so sorry I skulked out before the sun was up. Could we just go on another date and pretend I’m not a complete asshole?_

Piccolo had his pants back on, though getting his leggings over the boot, with his wrist immobilized, had been a slapstick routine, ending with him ripping the seam open at the ankle. The tank top was no less absurd with his mangled, painful wrist.

Vegeta knocked softly and Piccolo called him in. Vegeta pushed a wheelchair to where Piccolo stood on one foot. Piccolo groaned, “Fuck, is that really necessary?”

“Hospital policy. And if you want to dance again, or even walk without a limp, you’re going to have to listen to me. To…trust me,” Vegeta’s face almost came apart at the last two words. He blinked rapidly and shook his head minutely, swallowing several times.

Piccolo nodded and enjoyed (with guilt and self-loathing) when Vegeta’s strong hands helped steady him as he lowered himself into the wheelchair. He finally said, “I’m really sorry about…about…this morning. I—“

“Nothing to apologize for,” Vegeta said, but hurried behind Piccolo where eye contact was impossible.

“I shouldn’t have snuck out like I did. It’s just—“

Vegeta cut him off again, “Stop. Water under the bridge. I’m just your PT. We don’t need to speak about it again. Ever.”

“But—“

“Piccolo, we have weeks of work ahead of us, at the very least, let’s not complicate things. Just pretend it never happened. Pretend I’m a stranger. Because I am.”

Piccolo deflated, shrinking down into the wheelchair. He didn’t want to pretend it never happened. He wanted it to happen again. And again. And again.

After the horrible, awkward, and silent drive to Piccolo’s flat, Vegeta said, “I’ll get you settled, then I need to go get a few things. Can I trust you to stay down or do I need to call reinforcements?”

“I’ll stay down,” Piccolo muttered, feeling despondent that he’d fucked up something that might’ve been so good. Maybe if he hadn’t slunk away, he wouldn’t have been early to practice, so Yamcha could have groped Bulma a while longer, and then maybe he wouldn’t have stepped on Piccolo while trying to touch her tits, and Piccolo would not only have an amazing boyfriend, but he wouldn’t have two utterly destroyed joints and a third badly bruised, which might cause him to lose his career. Maybe his decision that morning, made with panic controlling his actions like a puppeteer, was like the butterfly in chaos theory, ruining his whole life.

* * *

Vegeta returned after an hour with a small suitcase and a couple bags of groceries. He put things away and started to cook, to Piccolo’s horror. Vegeta couldn’t cook for him, it was so far beyond his role as PT, even if he was a sort of overqualified home-health nurse.

“Vegeta, I’m happy to order-in, on me, obviously. You don’t need to do that.”

“Do what?” he asked, emerging from the kitchen, which Piccolo had to admit smelled wonderful.

“Cook.”

“You’re welcome to order-in. I’m cooking myself dinner, if you want some, great, if not, great. Do what you want.” Vegeta disappeared into the kitchen again and Piccolo helplessly ogled Vegeta’s ass and svelte black tail, soft as sealskin.

_Oh, fuck._ Had Piccolo touched Vegeta’s tail? Why did he know exactly how Vegeta’s tail felt? Not just the feel of the fur, but the muscular power of it, the way it wrapped hot around his thigh, a furry constrictor. _Oh fuck_. No wonder Vegeta was hurt that Piccolo had disappeared without so much as a goodbye peck or his number on the dresser.

Piccolo had slept with Saiyans before and tail-touching was taboo: you just did not do it…unless invited. Something usually reserved for… _mates_. _Oh fuck_. Worse than Piccolo’s original fear that he had drunkenly fondled Vegeta’s tail: had Vegeta _invited_ Piccolo to touch his tail?

It infuriated Piccolo that his memory was so cobbled together it couldn’t produce any of the answers to the millions of questions this knowledge, this silky, velveteen knowledge, raised.

He held his mouth in his unbroken hand wondering to what degree he’d made Vegeta feel like complete garbage. How badly had he wounded the man now cooking something amazing in his kitchen? Should he try to talk to Vegeta more now that he’d had this realization? Should he try to explain…what? That he didn’t _mean_ to touch Vegeta’s tail? That wouldn’t help anything. But he couldn’t apologize for touching it either without the implication being that he hadn’t wanted to touch it but had anyway. Amongst Saiyans touching someone’s tail…flippantly…was only a rung or two below rape on the ladder of heinous shit. Tail-touching violations were likely a rung _above_ murder.

Piccolo pulled out his phone to find a Saiyan relationship advice sub-reddit. Helplessly he clicked into his photos, swiping through them like he hadn’t allowed himself this morning. Vegeta drunkenly kissing his mouth, a huge grin on both their faces, squinty-side-eyes red in the flash, Vegeta nibbling Piccolo’s ear, Piccolo sucking Vegeta’s neck. 

The worst was one that someone had taken, Vegeta astride Piccolo’s lap at the bar, their foreheads pressed together, eyes locked, and Piccolo could see in the picture that they…they _loved_ each other. In that one Vegeta was only in his boxer-briefs, with quite a lot of something—was that cash?—in his waistband. Piccolo’s hands fit perfectly on Vegeta’s divine ass. A flash of Vegeta on the bar, squatting low in front of Piccolo, offering him a lap dance with a dark little smirk. Piccolo’s hands tingled remembering how steely Vegeta’s thighs felt. Piccolo remembered the sharp, sweet bite of Vegeta’s teeth on his earlobe, his dextrous tongue on the line of Piccolo’s jaw. Piccolo shivered at even the fragmented memory.

The sudden silence from the kitchen made Piccolo look up. Vegeta was near him, his eyes on the phone. His wide, glassy, horrified eyes. They snapped up to Piccolo’s eyes, Vegeta’s mouth dropping open. His brows slammed together in a sad little peak and he closed his mouth. Swallowed hard. He said, his voice weak, “I made green curry. Yes or no?”

“Yeah, it smells amazing,” Piccolo said, his own eyes trying to plead with Vegeta’s, beg for another chance.

Vegeta helped Piccolo to the table, clearly holding his breath so as not to smell Piccolo, only touching him the bare minimum. Vegeta put a steaming bowl of curry and a glass of iced tea in front of Piccolo and said, his voice like a dead man’s, “I’m going for a run. I’ll be back to help you move. Wait for me so you don’t get hurt more.”

“You aren’t going to eat?” Piccolo said, trying not to lose his composure. “I thought you were cooking for you.”

The last of Vegeta’s color drained away. “I…am not feeling well. Eat up. You need the protein to heal.”

Vegeta was in and out of the guest suite like lightning, a flash of his bare, muscular back, his powerful legs in minuscule running shorts, and he was out the door before Piccolo could even get out the strangled, “Wait!” that burbled out of him.

Piccolo ate, not tasting anything, and only so he didn’t hurt Vegeta’s feelings even more by snubbing his culinary offering. Piccolo was so miserable that all he wanted was to be in his bedroom before Vegeta got back. Piccolo couldn’t bear the hurt and suffering he saw in Vegeta’s eyes.

He had a wheelie thing that he would have to use to support his shattered ankle, as crutches were off the table due to his broken wrist. It was by the front door though. If he could hop one footed, which would be no problem, he was a ballet dancer, for fuck’s sake, then he could wheel himself to his room. It was only seven or eight little hops. If Piccolo did more of an actual jump—he executed beautiful one-legged jumps all the time—he could do it in five. His mind whispered about his balance with the bruised hip, the new weight of the boot, the cast on his arm. But then Vegeta’s eyes meeting Piccolo’s after seeing that photo flashed in his mind and he hauled himself up.

Just as he positioned himself to make his first jump, Vegeta came through the front door, his chest heaving with exertion.

His eyes went wide and he barked, “What the _fuck_ are you doing? Did I not make myself perfectly clear? If you fall again, you may never _walk_ normally, let alone _dance_ professionally! Stop being so non-compliant! I’m only trying to help you!”

“Sorry,” Piccolo said, his misery finding new, dark, slimy depths, “Look…I…Can we please just talk about last night, Vegeta? I…quite a bit of it is missing for me. I must have had a ton to drink. I feel really bad about—“ Piccolo had almost acknowledged the tail.

Vegeta sighed and his proud shoulders melted into a hunch of defeat. His upper body shimmered with sweat, his skin golden in the last light of the day coming in through Piccolo’s big windows. Vegeta cleaned up Piccolo’s dishes and said, “There’s nothing to say. We had a one-night-stand and thought we’d never see each other again. It’s…it’s only awkward because we are seeing each other again. So let’s just let that be the narrative.”

“No! I feel shitty about leaving the way I did this morning. I just…I don’t normally do that and I freaked out—“

“You don’t normally flee in the morning but you did with me?” Vegeta said, almost wheezed, like Piccolo had punched him right in the solar plexus.

“No! No! Not that—“

“You don’t normally have flings?” Vegeta said, a little suspicious now, less…betrayed.

“No, not…I mean…Yes, I have flings. I only have flings. But I don’t…I never, I mean, _never_ stay the night. Not once.”

Vegeta turned away. Made himself busy in the kitchen. Piccolo thought he had just chosen to ignore Piccolo as he did the dishes in the sink despite Piccolo’s dishwasher. As Piccolo started to scooter himself to his room, Vegeta’s defeated voice said, “Well, it was your idea, not mine.”

“Vegeta…That…That isn’t what I meant. I just think…I think that I must’ve really liked you if I stayed over.”

Vegeta froze and said, “I doubt that. You were just really drunk. If I’d realized you were black-out drunk, not just…drunk like me…I wouldn’t have taken you to bed anywhere, but certainly not at my place. Did you get enough to eat?”

Piccolo’s throat tightened. He wanted to cry. His ankle and wrist and hip all throbbed, but none hurt as much as his heart or the sharp lines of pain running alongside his throat from keeping his tears at bay.

He croaked, “Yeah. I’m full. I’ll head to bed. Make yourself at home.”

Vegeta’s voice reverted to his no-nonsense professional voice, “Do you need a hand with the bathroom or undressing?”

“No. I’ll be fine,” Piccolo said, and fled to his room.


	2. Provocations

Their first few days were spent checking on swelling and moving Piccolo’s other joints and muscles to keep them limber and strong while Piccolo wasn’t practicing. In theory then only his wrist, ankle, and hip would have to play catch-up. Only. As if a quarter of his major joints were trivial to his career.

Piccolo tried to maintain a polite, professional demeanor with Vegeta, but occasionally he couldn’t help but flirt with the serious Saiyan. Vegeta gave in every so often, but then immediately looked so wounded that Piccolo made a more concerted effort not to do it.

Piccolo’s heart ached as much as his healing bones. After their first week, Piccolo said, “Bulma wants us to go out to eat with her and some friends tonight, do you…um…do you wanna come? You can bring friends too. Krillin and Bulma and Yamcha will be there, for sure. I don’t know who else.”

“When? Where?” Vegeta asked tersely.

Piccolo told him the details and although he was snappish and surly, Vegeta agreed.

* * *

Bulma had arranged for a large private room at the best Saiyan restaurant in the city. Vegeta helped Piccolo out of the car, and Piccolo tried not to ogle him. Vegeta wore perfectly tailored dark gray slacks with a vivid blue button down that showed his V-shaped physique and his taut ass off to great effect.

When 18 showed up, kissing Vegeta’s cheek lightly, Piccolo wondered if he’d misread the whole situation and Vegeta and 18 were a couple—Piccolo a little side action. The Saiyan nurse who had done Piccolo’s x-rays joined them too, Raditz. Another Saiyan, a hulking monster of a man, introduced himself coolly to Piccolo as Broly. Then he practically squatted to give Vegeta a deep kiss, slid his enormous mitt onto Vegeta’s lower back, and glared at Piccolo as they all proceeded to their seats. Piccolo tried to control his face, but he was crushed to see someone else pawing Vegeta, kissing Vegeta. Vegeta kissing back.

Vegeta’s motive for inviting 18 became apparent as he led the pretty android into a conversation with Krillin, extracting himself once they were engrossed in each other with twinkles in their eyes. Bulma’s sister, Tights, had come along too, and she and Raditz hit it off, doing shots together. Piccolo, despite being with eight other people, had never felt more lonely.

Piccolo’s eyes drifted helplessly, again and again, to Vegeta. More than once he caught Vegeta watching Piccolo, his eyes skittering away with a little frown whenever Piccolo met his gaze. Broly, whenever he noticed, murmured in Vegeta’s ear, resulting in a wan smile from Vegeta.

As the night wore on, and the alcohol flowed, Broly’s whispers turned to kisses. Piccolo’s jealousy became impossible to tamp down. Piccolo needed to get out of there.

From the far end of the table, Yamcha’s irritating voice said, “I’ll be the male lead this season—there’s no way Piccolo will be recovered in time, and even if he heals up, he’ll be so out of practice—“

Piccolo’s own interruption was pre-empted by Vegeta snarling, “So that’s why you tripped him? You took out what you thought was the only obstacle to being lead. But he wasn’t. The obstacle is your mediocrity.”

Yamcha’s face turned beet-red. “I didn’t mean to trip him, Vegeta.”

“The hell you didn’t. I know an intentional break when I see it. There’s no way his injuries could have resulted from a gaff. You held his foot down while he fell. The fact that Bulma went uninjured only supports my belief that you planned when to step on his foot. You knew he wouldn’t let her hit the ground, breaking his wrist rather than dropping her to save himself.”

Silence clotted up all noise in the room. 18’s soft, authoritative voice said, “I concur with Vegeta. No way this was a whoopsy-daisy. This was meant to be a career-ending injury, too. Not a season-ending.”

“But I’ll show you, Yamcha. He’ll be dancing again in no time. And if you pull a stunt like this again, you’ll wish you’d never met me,” Vegeta growled, sending a ripple of confusion over people’s face about this sudden…protectiveness…from Vegeta, directed toward Piccolo.

Yamcha said nothing, but he and Bulma argued quietly before Bulma stood to leave. She kissed the top of Piccolo’s head and hugged him. “I’m so sorry, Picc. I love you. Let Vegeta take care of you, okay? He knows what he’s doing.”

“Yeah…Can I…can I call you tomorrow to ask your advice?”

Her eyebrows drew together. She said, “Of course,” then she dropped to a whisper, “Man trouble?”

“Yeah, I really fucked up,” he muttered back, holding her close so no one would hear. “You’ll help me fix it?”

“Of course I will, sweetie.” She cast a glance at Vegeta and wrinkled her nose and grinned as she mouthed, “ _Vegeta_?”

Piccolo gave a contrite little nod.

Bulma giggled uncontrollably. “I can’t wait to hear that story.” She left, a downcast Yamcha trailing behind her.

Krillin and 18 ignored everyone else at the table, as did Tights and Raditz. Piccolo tried not to stare at Vegeta and Broly. Tried not to hear all the lewd propositions Broly was murmuring against Vegeta’s ear. Piccolo’s sensitive ears heard _everything_ unfortunately. Heard every time Broly nipped at Vegeta’s jaw. Every hissed intake of breath. Piccolo was going to die from some combination of lust and jealousy. He couldn’t help but imagine all three of them in his bed.

He shook his head, dispelling the fantasy, and got to his feet, lining his knee up on his scooter. Vegeta sprang up but Piccolo waved him back down. Piccolo said, “I’m gonna go grab a cab. You come by whenever you’re up and about tomorrow, no rush. Have a good night.” Piccolo felt grim pride that his voice hadn’t shaken with the tears just waiting to break free.

Vegeta fussed around him and said, “I’ll take you home, don’t be ridiculous.”

Broly said something in Saiyan that made Vegeta smirk and growl something back. While they finished their conversation, Piccolo paid for the meal and started toward the exit.

Vegeta caught up with him easily. Piccolo said, “Vegeta, I’m fine. Go have fun. I will take the elevator and go straight to bed. Nothing else. Go on. Take the night off.”

“I’ll take you home and get you settled. Broly’s all bluster anyway.”

Piccolo’s voice started to tremble. “Vegeta…gods. I have _really_ good hearing. I’m a Namek. You should go home with him.”

Vegeta froze and looked up into Piccolo’s eyes. “Were you eavesdropping?”

“Not intentionally! I hear fucking everything, whether I want to or not! I can still hear Raditz whispering to Tights. Someone’s using a dog whistle eight or nine blocks south of here. I can hear your heartbeat right now, getting faster. I hear everything. So go.” Piccolo shrugged. “Go have fun.”

Vegeta looked wounded and on the brink of tears. “Very well. I’ll see you in the morning. Get some rest. Keep your phone on you in case you fall,” Vegeta bit out and strutted away, his whole body radiating fury.

Before Piccolo had even landed a cab, Broly and Vegeta walked past him, holding hands on their way to Vegeta’s car and growling in Saiyan. Broly looked back at Piccolo and shook his head in apparent disgust.

Piccolo slumped into the cab, his eyes filling with tears at how shitty everything had gotten so quickly. He perked up as he had an idea. He redirected the cab to the bar where Piccolo had met Vegeta.

As he awkwardly got out, he said, “Can you wait fifteen minutes? I’ll pay you extra, not just the meter time, yeah?”

“Sure thing, man.”

Piccolo wheeled into the bar and looked for anything that might knock loose some memories. People usually remembered Piccolo because of his height if nothing else, but Nameks also mostly lived in insular communities, so a towering Namek garnered even more attention.

The bartender greeted him jovially, like they were old friends, though Piccolo had only been at that bar once, the night he picked up Vegeta. “Piccolo! Back so soon? I thought you’d have to dry out for a month before you returned to us. Where’s your sexy little Saiyan friend? That man’s bar dancing made me quite a lot of money, but he only dances for you.”

Piccolo slouched at the bar. “Yeah…um, about him. I, uh, had way too much to drink that night and I have quite a few blank spots. Could you tell me what you remember me and him doing?”

The barman said, “Well, you ordered a drink right over his head, but said you’d buy his too, since you cut without cutting. He was here with a bunch of his Saiyan buddies, but he never went back to them after you two started flirting like crazy after you bought him the drink. You told him you were a dancer, well, you told everyone, and he said he was too. You did some crazy shit with your body, egging him on a bit, I think. He shocked the hell out of me by jumping up on the bar, doing a little dance for you, and before I knew it, he was stripping like it was his profession. The whole crowd was into it, shoving money in his knickers, but he kept coming back to you, kissing you, touching you, all like he meant business. Not at all subtle.”

“Eventually you did some crazy lifty-twirl thing with him over your head. He about died laughing. Then he put his pants back on and you two staggered out drunk as all hell and got in a cab. I was pretty surprised by the whole thing.”

“Yeah, impromptu Saiyan bar-dancing—“

The man shook his head and waved his hand cutting Piccolo off. “No, not that. He’s a regular, him and his buddies. Vegeta. They’re good tippers, surly as fuck, but kind of…courteous…despite that. He’s a good guy. They all are. I like when they’re here because no one gets stupid with a bunch of Saiyans around. No fights. He’s one of the only unmated ones. He’s almost always the last to leave, and he’d never admit it, but he’s always making sure his buddies are okay. They’re all ex-Galactic Special Forces. He’s only been on Earth permanently a few years, but he’s some kinda surgeon something now, I think. He dated another dancer a while ago, hot little thing, blue hair, sweet as sugar.”

“Yeah, I work with her.”

“Oh yeah, so you knew Vegeta then?”

“No, I didn’t. Weird fucking coincidence.”

“Well, she ended things, but he didn’t seem cut up. He’s been a loner since then. Always leaves alone. Surprises me every time, he’s a good guy. He can be prickly and cutting, but he’s like a cactus, spiny with a soft, squishy interior, blooms unexpectedly.”

Piccolo smirked and said, “Sounds like _you_ have a bit of a crush.”

“Ah, well, maybe I do. But I’m married twenty-seven years next month, and it would take a lot more than a taut ass and wry sense of humor to change how I feel about my wife. I think I just wish him happiness.”

Piccolo nodded miserably and dropped his forehead into his hands. “Anything else you remember?”

“You two were pretty sappy with each other. Love at first sight, soul mates, that sort of thing. All over each other. Which even with your lady friend, was never the case. He hardly put a finger on her in public.”

Piccolo held his mouth. “Fuck…” he breathed through his fingers.

The bartender’s eyes narrowed and flashed. “You hurt him?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean to. He must be okay. He’s out with a different guy tonight.”

“Gigantic, scary Saiyan?”

“Yeah, how’d you—“

“Broly. They rebound each other sometimes. Mostly Vegeta rebounding Broly who dates like he’s on a reality show. But he and Vegeta don’t date. They’re more like…friends with benefits when needed.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” Piccolo groaned, “I want to unfuck this. I really liked him, I think…in the parts I remember.”

The bartender sighed, looked around, and said, “I’m not too busy, spill it, all of it,” and leaned his elbows on the bar.

Piccolo related his tale of woe and stupidity. The shame was almost unbearable when he confessed that he thought he might have touched Vegeta’s tail. The bartender’s eyes widened and he said, “Are you sure? You touched his tail and then walked out on him?”

Piccolo covered his flushed, guilty face. “I don’t remember. I walked out though. Freaked out. I never stay over. I couldn't even remember his name when I woke up. I just…panicked.”

The bartender shook his head and muttered, “I’m afraid you are fucked, my green friend. I can’t imagine him bouncing back from that. I think you better just leave him alone.”

Piccolo groaned and gestured to his wrist and ankle. “I can’t, he’s my physical therapist.”

“That is going to be a challenge,” the barman said, wincing.

“He won’t even talk to me about it.”

“No, you know how Saiyans are, proud motherfuckers. He’ll never admit you hurt him, is my guess, just pretend it was nothing, but he’ll never forgive you either. Sorry, but I think you blew your chance with him.”

Piccolo thanked the bartender, slid a twenty across the bar, and scooted back out to his waiting cab. He found Vegeta leaning against the cab, his arms crossed so tightly his veins popped, his face a mask of rage.

“What the fuck are you doing? Up the elevator, straight to bed, my ass! You can’t drink right now! Gods, get in the fucking cab! I knew I should have escorted you home.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Vegeta, just a…” Piccolo swallowed hard and managed to continue, “Just a PT. I didn’t drink. I was just trying to fill in some holes in my memory.”

Vegeta looked horrified, his mouth open, one side of his upper lip twitching up. Then his eyebrows crashed together and his teeth ground. He snarled, “Why would you waste your time? You know what, never mind. Krillin’s in-house PT can handle this. I thought we could respect professional boundaries despite…everything. But you keep…keep…” Vegeta’s eyes searched the ground as he blinked tears away. “You keep provoking me!”

“Why won’t you at least talk to me? It’s not like I meant to black out, Vegeta! I was really disoriented when I woke up. I couldn’t remember _anything._ Once I was up and moving a lot came back, but a lot didn’t. And by then I’d left, and I wanted to go back, but I couldn’t even remember where your flat was and—“

“Please stop,” Vegeta pleaded, “Get in the cab.”

Piccolo sighed, but let Vegeta help him in and tried to hide his surprise when Vegeta got in the other side. Vegeta said, “I’m just going to get my shit and go.”

“Vegeta, come on. I don’t want you to go. Even if you won’t do my PT. Look, I…I…the bartender said we had a really good time. Can’t you give me another chance? A chance to not fuck it all up?”

Vegeta looked out the window and said nothing. But once they were home, he slipped into the guest room.

Piccolo called Bulma the second he got home. He told her everything he knew and suspected.

“Oh, Picc, how could you do that? He’s so sensitive, even if he doesn’t seem like it, and now he’s ashamed on top of hurt. Do you really think he invited you to touch his tail?”

“I know…I know how it feels. It’s so soft, but it’s silkier than I imagined, so it’s not like I _think_ I know. I really _know_. And it was wonderful. Fuck,” Piccolo said, and finally let loose and cried.

“Why don’t I come over? Yamcha’s out with the guys. Sound good?”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Piccolo sniffled out.

When Bulma arrived, Piccolo started to wheel himself to let her in, but Vegeta appeared before he could get there. He greeted Bulma and headed back to the guest room.

“Hey, Vegeta, wait—“ she called.

“What, woman? I’m tired. It’s late.”

“Can you spot for me and Yamcha until Goku is back next week?”

“Maybe. I’m passing him off to Krillin’s PT tomorrow. I’ll have to look at my schedule. Send me the times you’d need me. Just lifts, I don’t want to have to loiter around all day just for a few lifts.”

“Wait, did you say pass Piccolo off? No, you can’t. You have to do his PT, Vegeta, please! He’ll never dance again if ChiChi’s in charge of him! She’s great for the basics, but this is not basic!”

Vegeta looked horrified again. “ChiChi? Goku’s wife? But she’s…is she even certified?”

“Yes, but she’s just a PT. No one’s like you, crazy over-qualified and thorough. Please, Vegeta, for me? I don’t want to be stuck dancing with Yamcha. I love him, but…he sucks so hard compared to Piccolo.”

A breath of hope filled Piccolo’s lungs as a tiny amused smile flitted across Vegeta’s face. One memory that had returned was how very much Vegeta had delighted in Piccolo’s blowjob skills. Vegeta’s eyes met Piccolo’s and Piccolo watched him struggle to keep the smile subdued.

“I can’t, Bulma. The case is overly complicated.”

“Bullshit, be a grown-up and talk to him!” she said and Piccolo winced. He didn’t mean for Bulma to get involved quite this directly.

“There’s nothing to say!” Vegeta snarled.

“Oh yes there is! You’re upset, very upset, but he doesn’t even remember half the night. Why don’t you start with what happened?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to a random hookup. That’s what happened! We had a random hookup! That is _all_.”

“You wouldn’t be fazed if he was a random hookup, Vegeta!”

“Guys, I’m like right here. Thanks, Bulma. Glad Goku is gonna be back soon. Thanks for looking in on me. I’ll get back dancing if it kills me. You’ll only have Yamcha couple of shows, okay? With or without Mr. Grumpy Saiyan’s assistance.”

Vegeta bit out a screed of angry Saiyan before transitioning to English, “I am not grumpy!”

Piccolo and Bulma both raised their eyebrows before cracking up.

“Fuck you both!” he shouted.

Bulma giggled and said, “Yeah, I think you have!”

“Damnit, Bulma! Get out! He pisses me off enough without your help!”

“I think you guys would be cute together,” she said with a shrug.

Vegeta turned maroon and again looked to be on the brink of tears. Piccolo instinctively moved to comfort him. Once he was close, Vegeta’s tail whipped off his waist and made for Piccolo’s. Vegeta snatched it back, hissed something in Saiyan, and darted out of the living room.

Bulma turned her widening, shocked eyes to Piccolo. “What have you fucking done? It’s…that’s a big deal, Picc! His tail just sought you out for comfort.”

“Fuck! I know! I just wish I could go back and do that morning differently! I regretted leaving that way immediately. I was just scared. You know I don’t do that. Oh gods. The bartender said we were super lovey-dovey.”

“Hmm…” Bulma’s eyes glittered. “I have a thought. I’ll call you in the morning.”

She left and Piccolo wished Vegeta would re-emerge. Piccolo sat up, binge-watching shows he’d already seen just to distract himself from his misery. He drifted off. Strong arms were around him, lifting him, and they carried him to bed. A velveteen caress ran over his bare skin. That answered all. Vegeta’s tail had chosen Piccolo and Piccolo had walked out like a dumb asshole.

Vegeta silently indulged his tail for a brief moment before turning to leave. Piccolo seized his hand, laced his fingers with Vegeta’s, and whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I walked out.”

“It doesn’t matter. You don’t need to feel…bound…to me. It was a mistake. I misread the situation.”

Vegeta could have easily escaped Piccolo’s hand, but he didn’t. He let Piccolo pull him back. Piccolo sat up, looked up at Vegeta where he now stood between Piccolo’s legs. He slid his casted arm around Vegeta’s waist, unlaced their fingers and slid his newly freed hand up onto Vegeta’s jaw. He pulled Vegeta down and brushed his lips over the Saiyan’s and murmured, “What if I want to be bound to you?”

Vegeta’s chest, his perfect, beautiful chest, rose and fell rapidly. He was tense and rigid in Piccolo’s embrace, even though his lips responded to Piccolo’s. But he pulled away after only a moment and said, “Don’t say more shit you don’t mean,” in a choked voice.

“What did I say that you think I didn’t mean?”

Vegeta backed out of Piccolo’s embrace so suddenly that Piccolo almost face-planted out of bed. Vegeta left the room without a word, leaving Piccolo alone in his bedroom, alone in his heart. “Fuck,” Piccolo breathed to himself, holding his head in his working hand.

* * *

His phone woke him early, Bulma’s face flashing on the screen. “What’s up, Bulma?” he said groggily.

“I have something to show you. When’s your surly love interest leave?”

“I dunno. He might be gone already. Why? What do you have?”

“You’ll see. Tights and I will come for lunch.”

Piccolo made his way out to the living room and found it mildly encouraging that Vegeta was still there. He was working out, using Piccolo’s furniture as makeshift equipment. Piccolo said, “What are we doing today?”

“Same shit, but we’ll begin putting some weight on the ankle, not much, but a little. Nothing on the wrist yet.”

The rest of the morning they hardly spoke. Vegeta directed, Piccolo complied and tried not to pant when Vegeta’s hands touched his bare, sweaty skin. Absurd as the notion seemed, Piccolo had the distinct impression that Vegeta’s tail was angry with Vegeta. Piccolo felt even worse that he had caused a rift between Vegeta and his own magical appendage.

A little before noon, Piccolo said, “You’re free the rest of the day.”

“We have more work to do!” Vegeta said crossly.

“Okay, then take a lunch break. I’m having friends over for lunch.”

Vegeta looked wounded again, but walked out onto Piccolo’s eighth story balcony and hopped down, landing lightly on his feet and walking away without even a glance back at Piccolo, who looked over the railing, his heart pumping hard, even though he knew it was nothing to the Saiyan.

Bulma and Tights arrived and Tights immediately threw open her laptop. She gestured for Piccolo to sit next to her. He did and she hit play on a video.

Piccolo and Vegeta came stumbling out of The Pelican, the bar where they’d met, holding hands. Piccolo bent over at least every two seconds to kiss Vegeta. They bumped foreheads frequently, Piccolo’s antennae brushing sensually over Vegeta’s skin. The video was silent, but Piccolo could see that they were speaking every second they weren’t kissing…which wasn’t very much, but still. No awkward silences that night. 

They hopped a cab and the video spliced to them sloppily flopping out of the cab in front of Vegeta’s building, Vegeta throwing money back at the cabbie. The were lying on the sidewalk. They kissed happily, giggling, drunk enough that it truly was a trial for them to get back to their feet. They eventually staggered, laughing and kissing, into the building and out of the frame.

Somewhere between the exterior camera and the lobby camera, Piccolo had scooped Vegeta into a bridal carry. Kissing him with intention as he weaved into the elevator.

Another splice and they were right outside Vegeta’s door. This was probably hijacked from Vegeta’s security camera and Piccolo shifted, uncomfortable that Tights and Bulma had done that, but unable to look away. This one had sound. A cold sweat erupted on Piccolo’s skin.

“I want to stay tonight. Fuck that, every night. You’re perfect, Vegeta, I love you,” Drunk Piccolo said. Sober Piccolo gaped at Drunk Piccolo’s prattling.

Vegeta hopped out of his arms, swayed a little. He pressed a finger against Piccolo’s lips and smirked. He purred, “I thought you _never_ stayed the night?”

“That’s for everyone else. Now that I’ve met you, I don’t even want to look at anyone else.” Sober Piccolo squeezed his head in his hands. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Drunk Piccolo felt that way. He did. This was worse than he’d imagined.

Vegeta lunged up to kiss him. Piccolo held him tightly. They tore at each other’s clothes, seemingly unaware that they were still in the hallway outside Vegeta’s apartment. Vegeta’s tail lashed happily. 

Drunk Piccolo slurred, “It’s so beautiful. I bet it’s soft.”

Vegeta stared into Drunk Piccolo’s eyes for a long moment. He asked, “Did you mean it? What you said to me earlier? In the cab?”

Drunk Piccolo kissed Vegeta tenderly and bumped their foreheads together again. “Of course I did. I’ve never felt this way before.”

Sober Piccolo could see even via the relatively shitty video how nervous Vegeta was, how his body trembled a little. But his tail wasn’t. It was bold as it slinked toward Drunk Piccolo.

Drunk Piccolo said, “You sure, sexy?”

Vegeta nodded, pulled Drunk Piccolo down for another kiss, and brushed his tail up the bare skin of Drunk Piccolo’s upper back where they had his shirt half off. Drunk and Sober Piccolo both shivered at the touch.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Poor Vegeta, waking alone after…after that. Piccolo felt tears spring into his eyes as Bulma and Tights chattered happily about how convenient it had been that it happened in the hallway so they knew what happened. They both turned, startled, when they heard Piccolo sobbing.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Bulma asked, “You didn’t mean it, you were so drunk. It’ll be okay.”

“No! I did mean it! Oh fuck. I…he…he invited me to touch his tail and I just fucking snuck out of his bedroom. I confessed to loving him, wanting to move in with him, and then I fucking snuck away. I disappeared. Godsdamnit! Fuck!”

“You were too drunk to know what you were saying and doing, honey,” Tights said, rubbing his broad back.

“No, I wasn’t! I knew! I asked him if he was sure. I’m such an asshole.” Piccolo cried into his hands for a minute and choked out, “Poor Vegeta! He must be completely heartbroken. I need to fix this. I need to make him feel better.”

“Oh, sweetie…you can’t _un_ -touch someone’s tail. He can always cut it off if it gets sick. That’s what Goku did.”

“Goku was raised on Earth! Vegeta would never do that! And I don’t want him to cut it off! I want to fix this! I’m honest when I’m drunk—so Drunk Piccolo was telling the truth. Fuck. I just want to fix it. If Drunk Piccolo loved him, I must love him. I want to unbreak his heart,” Piccolo said, his head dropping back into his good hand.

“Sweetie, I don’t think you can. ChiChi may be the best course, though. It’s not fair to make him keep working with you now that you…now that you know what you did.”

“But…but…I want to win him back! Can’t I try?”

Tights snorted a little laugh. “I don’t think so. That was stone cold, Piccolo, leaving like that. Raditz said Vegeta’s been a wreck.”

“I…There must be _something_ I can do,” Piccolo whined. He needed to stop whining.

“Raditz said Broly will take good care of him. They both think he won’t get tail-sick since you two weren’t really together,” Tights said.

“Fuck. Can you send me the video?”

“Sure thing, honey. Focus on getting better. Bulma deserves a better partner than Yamcha. A better boyfriend too, but I know she’s not your type.”

Piccolo gave her a weak smile and nodded. After they left, he sat on the couch, watching it several more times, each time seemed to dust off a new piece of his memory.

A sudden wheezing sound made him twist around. Vegeta stood a few feet behind Piccolo. The video was, of course, at the part with volume, Drunk Piccolo professing his love.

Vegeta’s eyebrows were scrunched up with shame and tears spilled onto his cheeks despite his frantic efforts to hide it. He met Piccolo’s gaze and croaked, “Where the _fuck_ did you get _that_?”

Piccolo hastily clicked it off. His own shame tightened his throat. “Vegeta, please? Please sit and talk to me.”

“No! Where did you get that! That’s _my_ security footage! Give me your phone!”

Piccolo stood up and used the couch to hop around so he could loom over Vegeta. “No! A friend hacked your camera after I shared my suspicions about what happened that night. I don’t lie when I’m drunk, Vegeta. It makes me super honest.”

“Please destroy that video,” Vegeta said plaintively, “Gods, how fucking humiliating. I didn’t even think to wipe the memory.” He started toward the guest suite.

“Vegeta, stop, wait, please?”

Vegeta’s shoulders slumped and his head fell back so he was looking at the ceiling as he let out a long breath. “What?”

“I mean it, Vegeta. I wouldn’t have said that stuff if I didn’t mean it. I just…I was so confused when I woke up. I hated myself as soon as the first glimmers came back. Everything I’ve remembered was amazing…I just…”

“Please, get rid of it. It’s humiliating.”

Piccolo hated his limited mobility, but Vegeta didn’t flee as Piccolo made his slow, awkward way toward the shorter man. Vegeta’s whole body thrummed with nervous energy, Piccolo felt it radiating off him like static. Piccolo took Vegeta’s hand again and Vegeta’s face looked pained as his tail unfurled and coiled around Piccolo’s waist, sneaking under his tank to be against bare skin. Tears filled Vegeta’s eyes.

Piccolo didn’t bother soft-pedaling his advances. He bent and kissed Vegeta deeply, passionately, more kisses crashing through the dark shield of his blackout. Vegeta’s mind might have wished to rebuff Piccolo, but his body and tail met the kiss with equal fervor. Vegeta yanked him closer and clutched at him. Piccolo’s good hand raced over Vegeta’s flank, his hip, up onto his powerful back.

Piccolo kissed down Vegeta’s throat, back up to his ear. He swirled his tongue inside it before murmuring, “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I was an idiot. Please…please forgive me.”

Vegeta said nothing. They kissed more, his tail exploring more. Piccolo hooked his bad arm under Vegeta’s rear and lifted him onto Piccolo’s hips.

“Set me down, damnit, you’ll fuck it up,” Vegeta growled and went back to kissing Piccolo only once Piccolo complied.

After a breathless, panting moment, Vegeta pulled away, took his tail forcibly off Piccolo, and looked torn. He said, “I have paperwork to do. We’ll get back to work in half-an-hour. You should eat something, do some stretches on the floor—no strain on either joint, but you can work the hip some.” He strutted away from Piccolo, who was more confused than ever.

Piccolo managed to contain his groan of disappointment, but barely. Vegeta was shockingly easy to read at times, completely inscrutable at others. Currently, Piccolo had no fucking clue what was going on in Vegeta’s mind.

Vegeta put him through his paces the rest of the afternoon. Piccolo’s irritation at his own body made him crabby. Piccolo remembered reading a quote from some pianist: _If I don’t practice one day, I notice. If I don’t practice two days, the critics notice. If I don’t practice three days, the public notices._ Piccolo could practically feel his skills slipping away.

As the sun set, Vegeta said they were done. To Piccolo’s surprise, he grabbed the bag he’d come with and left. He didn’t say goodbye or give an explanation. He just walked out the door. Piccolo wept. Piccolo got just a taste of what he’d done to Vegeta, and he knew Vegeta had done it deliberately because it went against his polite, if brusque, nature.

Piccolo texted a few friends, but they were all busy. His heartache ballooned into an actual physical thing. He tried to imagine how much greater it would be if he’d pair-bonded with Vegeta according to Namek tradition instead of Saiyan, and he couldn’t. He didn’t think Vegeta would ever hurt him that way.


	3. Last Chances

Piccolo answered the knocking at his door the next morning, assuming it was Vegeta or ChiChi. But it was a diminutive, attractive man with sleek dark hair, and cold blue eyes. “Hello. I’m 17. Vegeta delegated your care to me. May I come in?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure,” Piccolo muttered and hopped out of the way. Vegeta would kill him if he’d known that Piccolo hopped from the bedroom to the front door. Piccolo hated the fucking scooter.

17 was an automaton, which made a lot of sense once he disclosed that he was an android, 18’s brother. He was a sports medicine doctor, but willing to slum it and do PT as a favor to Vegeta.

“Why, um, why wouldn’t he just do it? He said he was my only hope of dancing again.”

17 regarded Piccolo for a long silent, judging moment and said, “I believe your question is disingenuous. You know perfectly well why he isn’t here.”

Piccolo deflated and to his dismay his eyes filled and his nose burned. “Oh. Okay. Let’s get to work.”

“Stop hopping everywhere. Use your scooter, or I’ll wash my hands of you,” 17 said. Piccolo only nodded.

Piccolo’s exhaustion at the end of the day was different than his normal, post-rehearsal exhaustion. Keeping his strength even when a whole half of him had very limited range of motion was really fucking irritating. Piccolo would like to crush Yamcha’s skull between his hands.

17 left and Bulma brought takeout. Piccolo tried not to talk about Vegeta, but Bulma brought him up. He had spotted for her and Yamcha after all.

“Where’d he learn to spot? Was he a dancer?” Piccolo asked, wondering if it was another thing under the blackness from that night.

“No, he did it as part of his PT training and practice. He used to be with Roshi’s dance company, you know, where Gohan went, as their in-house, like ChiChi. He taught good spotting technique, trained the dancers to spot correctly, and saved so many injuries they thought he was superfluous. They let him go. Now they’re all getting hurt all the time. I hope poor Gohan doesn’t get injured. That’s how I met Vegeta, he was at some after-party, looking so uncomfortable, but he was so cute that I chatted him up. We only dated for a bit, I could just tell right away that he would never fall in love with me, so I ended it. He was really nice about it though. I don’t know why Vegeta’s back at the hospital. He’d quit doing surgery when I was with him.”

“Gods. I can’t believe how badly I fucked things up. I feel terrible.”

“You should. Dick move, Picc, regardless of pair-bonding.”

“I don’t need help feeling worse, Bulma.”

“Sorry. I love you and you’re my best friend, but he’s a really good guy. He deserves to be treated well.”

Piccolo sighed and fell bonelessly back into his couch. He didn’t want to cry in front of Bulma, but he also did. He wanted her to hug him and tell him that it would be okay. He let himself go. She held him and shushed him.

“It sucks bad enough to be fucked up physically, unable to dance, to miss our show’s debut, but then to know I fucked this up too? Fucked up my shot at happiness? Gods, it’s just…It’s just a lot, Bulma!” He ugly cried and Bulma continued to wrap her arms around his giant body while she petted his head.

“I know, sweetie. Maybe…I don’t want you to get your hopes up, but what if you call him and ask him out to dinner? The stuff here probably just seemed like you were trying to get laid, not actually, you know… _be_ with him. So try to woo and win him the old-fashioned way instead of the drunk in a bar way.”

Piccolo wiped his eyes and tried to control his breathing. He blew his nose. “Okay, so where do I take him?”

“Well, Krillin removed our lift from the choreography until you’re back so we debut this weekend, why don’t you ask him if he wants to come make fun of Yamcha and support me? You have the private box. You could take him to a good Namek place to eat first?”

“Yeah, there’s even that new one right near the theatre. Um…I have a problem though…”

“What?”

“I don’t even have his number,” Piccolo said and started to cry again.

“Picc, I will give it to you, but you are _never_ allowed to tell him where you got it, understand?”

“Oh my fucking gods, you’re my hero. No, I will never tell a soul.”

After Bulma left, Piccolo stared at the contact info she’d sent him. Piccolo added his favorite of the drunk-Vegeta selfies as the picture, feeling very guilty and a little stalker-y doing so, but not enough to undo it. Piccolo had never actually asked someone out on a date, not like this. He picked people up, yes, and occasionally made subsequent plans, but this…was scary. Even if he didn’t feel this strongly about the person he intended to call.

He considered texting, but could hear Bulma berating him and see Vegeta’s wounded expression. Piccolo was just so bad at using his phone as an actual phone. He did it with Bulma, but only because they chattered so much it was often faster than texting if they just wanted to talk.

Maybe the only reason he worked up the nerve was simply because he wanted Vegeta so badly. He clicked the number and held the phone to his ear. Piccolo hoped for a couple of rings to acclimate to the idea of speaking on the phone, but after the first ring, Vegeta’s growling voice answered, “This is Vegeta, how may I help you?”

Piccolo froze.

“Hello?” Vegeta said.

“Hey, Vegeta, hi. It’s…It’s Piccolo,” Piccolo stammered, his heart thundering so hard he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to hear Vegeta, but the world-weary sigh came through loud and clear. “Look, I know I have fucked this up so hard. But…would you like, or at least be willing, to go to dinner with me on Friday at Ne’eCaaluw, then to the opening night of Bulma’s show? I’ve got box seats and would love some help making fun of Yamcha.”

The silence stretched so tight on the line that Piccolo almost hung up, assuming Vegeta had thrown his phone out a window. As Piccolo pulled his own phone away from his sensitive ear he heard a single, gruff word, “Why?”

“Because I really like you and wish I hadn’t fucked that up with blacking out and being a dick as a result.”

“Piccolo…You don’t need to do this out of guilt. I’ll be fine. I’m not tail-sick yet, and plenty of Saiyans never experi—“

“I’m not doing it out of fucking obligation! The only thing I regret from our time together is how I slunk away in the morning. Well, and that I can’t remember all of it. But I remember enough, damnit! I should have stayed long enough to get my bearings.”

Another tired sigh. “I know Bulma’s been making you feel guilty with that fucking video, but you’re not Saiyan, you aren’t…connected…to our trad—“

“Fuck you, Vegeta! I know how I feel and Bulma and that video have nothing to do with it! After I left and I calmed down, I fucking hated myself before I even knew you _were_ Saiyan or that I’d touched your tail. I just hated myself because I knew I’d thrown away something incredible but I had no idea how to contact you…and I was so fucking ashamed. Then when this happened…it felt like another chance, one dearly paid for and that I maybe don't deserve, but still a second chance. I’m not calling out of fucking _duty_ or _guilt_. I’m calling with a pile of pathetic hope that I can somehow earn your forgiveness,” Piccolo ranted. He was winded. He shouldn’t have yelled at Vegeta while asking him on a date. Piccolo just felt like Vegeta would never hear him until he shook the damned Saiyan.

Another silence so long Piccolo caught his breath. “Fine. What time?”

They hashed out the details and Piccolo wanted to squeal he was so happy. Two days and he’d get his chance. A real chance. He texted Bulma so she could help him decide what to wear.

* * *

Piccolo tried to meditate to stop himself from sweating as he waited for Vegeta outside Ne’eCaaluw. He’d opted for a charcoal gray suit in a bamboo blend with a periwinkle shirt. The jacket was only over his left shoulder, courtesy of his cast. He felt absurd on his stupid scooter, but he knew Vegeta would flip out if he was walking on the boot.

Piccolo expected Vegeta to emerge from a cab, so when a gravelly voice said, “Waiting for someone? How will they find you in the crowd?” from behind him on the sidewalk, Piccolo almost tipped off his scooter turning around. He grinned helplessly down at Vegeta, who looked edible in his gray twill suit with a bright blue shirt. Though Piccolo was fairly certain that Vegeta’s broad shoulders combined with narrow waist and that fabulous ass of his probably looked fantastic in just about anything.

“Hey! You look great,” Piccolo said, then hastily added, “You always look great. Just, um, you look really good in a suit and—“

“Why don’t we go inside so you can stop nervous rambling at me,” Vegeta said with a smirk.

Piccolo laughed and started making his awkward way toward the entrance, Vegeta politely moseying along with him. Piccolo asked, “Have you ever eaten here?”

“No. I rarely eat out. I’ve been to maybe five restaurants in the whole city. Old habits and wariness die hard,” Vegeta said, and Piccolo could see Vegeta’s eyes scanning the surrounding area like he was a raptor.

“Are you just wary being out in general or like you worry about people poisoning you?” Piccolo asked, hoping he wasn’t treading on ground that had been covered their passionate night together.

“Neither, really, I suppose,” Vegeta paused as the host seated them and handed them menus. “I lived most of my life trying to be a wraith, invisible, so it feels strange to just deliberately come out of the shadows and gallivant around. It feels risky. Foolish, even. I go out with my Saiyan buddies to The Pelican because I feel safer that way, in a pack. Saiyans are like wolves, perfectly capable of killing alone, but so much better in a group,” he said and flashed Piccolo a hard-on-inducing, predatory smirk.

Piccolo wasn’t sure whether bringing up their night together would take some of the sting out or make it worse. “Saiyans in packs are way scarier than wolves,” Piccolo said, and felt himself blush, which made him feel absurd.

Vegeta looked at him a moment with his eyes narrowed before a small smile crept back onto his face. “I have been told—though I have a few blank spots of my own thanks to your generosity with drinks—that I danced quite exuberantly on the bar that night. My fellow Saiyans haven’t let me live that, or anything else I did that night, down.”

“Like what?” Piccolo said, still eager for any of the night’s details that had been destroyed by drink.

“Making out with a ballerina Namek in public after stripping for him. Offering him a lap-dance ‘on the house,’ apparently. Generally making a lovesick spectacle of myself. I never drink like that, so they were all delighted and have quite a lot of video evidence,” Vegeta said, trying to look severe, but only barely managing to keep from laughing.

Piccolo chuckled. “I wish I remembered the lap-dance…”

Vegeta held his face in his hands, but looked up with a grin and said, “Broly has the whole thing on video.”

“Are you and Broly, um…you know…” Piccolo asked, trying to sound less desperately concerned than he was.

“No. If we were, I would not be out on what I presume is a date? He and I fuck now and again, and I tried the other night to…console…myself, but…” Vegeta shrugged and looked away.

“I had fun with you, Vegeta. That was the first thing I remembered when it started burbling back to the surface. Just…so much fun. Like I was happy for maybe the first time ever. Even before…um…before anything at your place.” Piccolo put his hand on the table, a little invitation. “The parts that didn’t get obliterated by alcohol were amazing.”

Vegeta contemplated Piccolo’s hand for an uncomfortable amount of time, like it was a marriage proposal, and Piccolo supposed Vegeta allowing Piccolo back into his life this way maybe was that level of seriousness. And Piccolo was glad. He wanted it. Vegeta’s hand slid across the table and their fingers twined together.

“You ever had Namek cider?” Piccolo asked.

“No. I’ve never had Namek anything, except you,” he said with another irresistible smirk.

Piccolo chuckled. “I don’t want to get shit-faced tonight, for obvious reasons, but you should try it at least.”

“I’m open to new experiences, new Namekian experiences in particular,” Vegeta said, rolling his lips in to keep his laughter from bubbling out.

As their date progressed, Piccolo wanted to jump up and down and scream while flapping his hands it was going so well. He wanted to text Bulma too, and just share wonderful little things. Piccolo already understood how he’d ended up professing his love and lifelong commitment to Vegeta in a single night, because he was ready to do it again.

Piccolo loved the sound of Vegeta’s throaty laughter and the way he told terrifying anecdotes from his days in space like they were bland, day-to-day humdrum. The way Vegeta kept dropping innuendoes and teasing Piccolo about his memory issues.

Piccolo got the check over Vegeta’s protests, finally just using his long arms to hold it too high for Vegeta to reach. Vegeta made thinly-veiled threats about how he would express his displeasure later in the evening, none of which made Piccolo want to let Vegeta pay. Piccolo said, “I asked you out, Vegeta, I get to pay. That’s how this works.”

“You should let me pay, Piccolo. You’re a dancer, I can’t imagine the pay’s very good.”

“Then you should know how I value taking you out. I’m spending my tiny salary to woo you. It’s early enough we could walk to the theater, if you can stand my ridiculous pace.”

Vegeta looked him up and down and said, “Only if you promise we’ll get a cab if you get tired. Which _I_ will pay for.”

“Deal.”

The night was pleasant and Vegeta didn’t protest or skitter away when Piccolo occasionally touched his lower back as they walked, though the first time Vegeta did arch a brow pointedly at Piccolo. But a little smirk followed it quickly enough that Piccolo didn’t move his hand.

Despite his slug-like pace, they made it to the theater early, so they sat on one of the benches surrounding the sculpture fountain and chatted more. Piccolo felt so at ease with Vegeta. Well. Mostly. Except the aching desire to be back in bed with him. But given how nervous and fraught the phone call had felt, every minute of their night had felt like a gift.

Vegeta’s head fell heavily on Piccolo’s shoulder, sending another thrill of hope through his body. Vegeta said, “It’s a gorgeous night. I’m sorry Yamcha took this from you.”

“I’m not.”

Vegeta sat up, his face scrunched up in confusion, trying to figure out whether Piccolo was a madman.

Piccolo said, “If he hadn’t tripped me, I might never have gotten a second chance with you. I’d break every bone in my body for that.”

Vegeta gave Piccolo a little shove with his elbow. “Next time just don’t be a dick the morning after. Gods, Piccolo, even if I hadn’t invited you to touch my tail, very poor form. I felt like utter shit.”

“I know. I’m so sorry. Old habits die hard.”

“You need some healthier habits.”

“I’m hoping I won’t need any more fling habits.”

Vegeta met his eyes in the last light of the sun peaking over the high rises. He whispered, “Do you mean that?” Vegeta’s chest was struggling not to heave.

“I do. I meant the stuff I said that night. It’s just a little scary for me. I haven’t been in many relationships. I’m not entirely sure how to do it properly. But not sneaking away the morning after lots of mind-blowing sex seems pretty obvious in retrospect. If you’re willing to put up with my bumbling attempts at a relationship, yeah, I want to be with you,” Piccolo said and held his breath.

Vegeta took Piccolo’s casted hand, turned it carefully in his hand, and touched each finger pad before he spoke again. “You really weren’t blowing me off and then decided you wanted to get fucked again?”

“No, though I do want to get fucked again, just to be clear. I just freaked out when I didn’t know where I was and couldn’t remember a single thing. Before I’d even made it home a lot had come back to me, but I couldn’t remember your neighborhood, let alone your address. I don’t normally drink that much, but you were distracting me. I wanted to keep flirting with you, so I just kept drinking. Kept buying you drinks.”

Vegeta laid his head on Piccolo’s shoulder again. “My fellows did say we were a touch Shakespearian in professing our love for one another. And that neither of us holds our liquor particularly well. And that I have a backup career as a stripper.”

Piccolo laughed. He turned and murmured into Vegeta’s hair, the closest he’d come to kissing Vegeta, “I’d rather you let me support you than share your perfect body with anyone else.” Vegeta sat up, looked up. Piccolo pressed his lips to Vegeta’s. Vegeta’s mouth met his eagerly, but Piccolo could feel Vegeta’s lingering reticence. He touched Vegeta’s jaw with the fingertips of his casted hand.

Piccolo whispered, feeling a little shaky, but only with the fear that Vegeta would reject him, “I love you, even when I’m not drunk, Vegeta. I’m really sorry I made you feel so shitty.”

Vegeta kissed him more aggressively and purred, “You’ll have to make it up to me somehow.”

“Maybe we could work together to fill in the gaps in our memories with live re-enactments?”

“That sounds like fun,” Vegeta said and smiled against Piccolo’s lips. He pulled away and said, “Let’s go watch a mediocre dancer throw around your partner.”

Piccolo’s stomach twisted with how much he missed dancing. “Do you…do you really think you’ll be able to get me dancing again?”

“I won’t lie, it’s going to be really fucking hard. He did research for how to permanently fuck that ankle—the stretched tendons and ligaments from the dislocation combined with not just multiple fractures, but multiple types of fractures—but if you cooperate, then yes. I think so. I can’t promise anything, but I feel confident. As long as you’re not non-compliant. About anything. 17 said you fucking hopped to the front door!”

Piccolo pulled a face. He said, “But now you have some serious leverage. Leverage that fits me just right,” Piccolo said and kissed Vegeta’s blushing cheek. He stayed low to murmur in Vegeta’s ear, “Am I remembering wrong or were our bodies fucking made for each other?”

Piccolo let the doorman scan their tickets. He said, “So sorry to hear about your injuries, Piccolo, I look forward to seeing you back onstage.”

“Thanks, Phil, I’ve got an amazing PT,” Piccolo said and ran his hand down Vegeta’s back as he pushed him toward the box.

Once they were in the box, Vegeta sucked Piccolo’s earlobe and said, “You can’t say shit like that in public or I’ll get hard.”

Piccolo slid his hand up Vegeta’s thigh, kissing him deeply, and he paused to whisper, “Maybe I meant to make you hard.”

“Why would you want that in our private box, Piccolo?” Vegeta said, arching a brow.

“No reason comes to mind?”

“None that wouldn’t compromise your joints.”

“I think you underestimate my flexibility, Vegeta…” Piccolo said and sucked Vegeta’s ear more suggestively.

Vegeta’s body was responding enthusiastically to Piccolo’s touch and kisses. Vegeta seemed unable to speak as Piccolo began softly brushing Vegeta’s hard-on through his pants with his good hand.

He finally choked out, “Piccolo, stop or I’ll be a mess.”

Piccolo unbuttoned and unzipped Vegeta who gasped and met Piccolo’s eyes with shocked disbelief at what he was going to do. Piccolo demonstrated his spinal flexibility as he curled down without changing seats, or even turning his hips, and took Vegeta’s head in his mouth, sucking on him languidly.

Piccolo slid down farther, sucked harder, and Vegeta gasped, “Holy shit…” Piccolo used his good hand to push Vegeta’s pants out of his way.

Vegeta protested, “We’re in public, Piccolo!”

“Do you want me to stop? Because I’d suck you off onstage, Vegeta,” Piccolo whispered and went back to giving Vegeta head.

“Fuck,” Vegeta groaned and his hips rose to meet Piccolo’s mouth. Piccolo’s hand started working with his mouth. Vegeta jammed the side of his own hand in his mouth to stifle his cries until he bit out in a harsh whisper, “I’m…I’m coming, Piccolo!”

Piccolo said nothing, his mouth was full and he wanted it fuller. He sucked Vegeta right through his orgasm, relishing the taste of Vegeta in his mouth again.

Vegeta panted and gasped as he gently pushed Piccolo away as he shivered with aftershocks. Piccolo sat up, licked his lips, and bent to kiss Vegeta’s cheek. Vegeta adjusted his pants and looked at Piccolo as he whispered, “What if someone saw us?”

Piccolo shrugged and grinned. “I have no intention of keeping you a secret, Vegeta.”

Vegeta chuckled as he finished tucking his shirt back in and said, “I should hope not, but I thought our blowjobs might at least be kept secret.”

Piccolo kissed him, smiling uncontrollably, and said, “If you insist.” He bumped his forehead to Vegeta’s and whispered, “Thank you for giving me another chance, sexy.”

“Don’t make me regret it, love,” Vegeta said with another fierce kiss.

“Hopefully occasional bouts of exhibitionism won’t make you regret it.”

“Don't push me, Piccolo,” Vegeta growled, giving Piccolo a little squeeze.

“You liked it a little, right?” Piccolo asked, his confidence faltering.

“I would think the evidence proves I liked it more than a little.”

“If the shambles of my memory from that night serve, I think you _do_ enjoy my blowjobs. I think you enjoy fucking me too. Are you going to let me fuck you, sexy?” Piccolo whispered the last part against Vegeta’s ear, kissed down the line of his jaw, Vegeta tilting his head to accommodate Piccolo.

Vegeta’s cheeks stayed vermillion as he murmured, “The show is about to start, you naughty man. We’ll have to see where the night takes us, but the morning better find you in my fucking bed.”

“You’ll be lucky if you ever get me out of your bed,” Piccolo said, chuckling.

Vegeta grinned at last and turned to kiss Piccolo more as the conductor emerged and a hush fell over the crowd.

Watching Yamcha move stiffly through a simplified version of Piccolo’s part made him want to scream. Vegeta must’ve seen Piccolo’s expression because he slid his hand onto Piccolo’s thigh and gave him a squeeze, then used his other hand to hold Piccolo’s good hand.

Bulma danced beautifully, as she always did, but Piccolo could see her fear even on the most basic lifts, which Yamcha executed like a drunk amateur. Even Vegeta, who confessed he’d never attended any of Bulma’s performances, was on the edge of his seat, literally. He would pull Piccolo’s hand up with his and press his knuckles to his teeth whenever they went into a lift sequence. Piccolo could see Vegeta’s thighs flexed and ready to leap down to the stage if Yamcha faltered.

Then it was over and Vegeta turned to Piccolo and said, “We have to get you dancing again, that was just painful.”

“I know. I don’t even like him spotting for Bulma, so this was fucking nerve-wracking.”

They stood and Vegeta fussed over Piccolo’s scooter for a minute before Piccolo tipped his face up and kissed him. 

Vegeta always looked a little startled when Piccolo kissed him. Piccolo wondered what that was about since Vegeta certainly looked like he could get laid pretty much by whoever, whenever, and probably wherever, he wanted. Vegeta was a compact god.

“You ready to go home?” Piccolo asked.

“Yes?” Vegeta said, but it was a question and he looked horribly uncomfortable.

“My place or yours?”

Vegeta relaxed. “Just to prevent sneaking in a panic, let’s go to yours. Let’s grab a cab.”

“Oh come on, it’s like ten blocks, can’t we walk?”

“You shouldn’t overdo it on your good leg, you’ll create imbalances,” Vegeta said.

“Is ten blocks really overdoing it?”

“Oh fine.”

“It’s a beautiful night. I hate wearing suits though,” Piccolo said and undid another button on his shirt.

“Which is a damn shame because you look exquisite in them,” Vegeta said. He slid his hand onto Piccolo’s lower back, glancing up at Piccolo. Piccolo found it amusing the way Vegeta thought Piccolo might deny any form of affection after the way he’d been throwing himself at Vegeta since their night together. Piccolo loved the feeling of that powerful hand on him. It made him feel safe. It made him feel loved.

Once they were inside Piccolo’s flat, Vegeta pounced on him, kissing him fiercely. Vegeta went to work on Piccolo’s jacket, and the bigger challenge of getting his shirt back over the cast. Piccolo started on Vegeta’s shirt and was proud of how deftly he managed to unbutton Vegeta with only one hand, never breaking from kissing.

Vegeta murmured, “You dumb motherfucker, we could have been doing this all week.”

“I said I was sorry!” Piccolo said, but he was grinning helplessly. “Besides, if you hadn’t been so fucking stubborn and just talked to me—“

“Don’t you dare blame this on me, you foolish man, you’re lucky I’m here at all!” But Vegeta was smiling too.

“Gods, Vegeta, I could barely walk the next day, you fucked me so thoroughly. So perfectly.”

Vegeta had moved on to Piccolo’s pants and his boot. Vegeta smirked up at him, finished, and said, “Well, you’re rather hard to resist. Another couple bouts and you wouldn’t have woken up disoriented because we never would have slept.”

“If you had blackout blinds, I wouldn’t have woken up,” Piccolo said, kissing Vegeta more.

“If you slept like a responsible adult, waking at dawn would be fine,” Vegeta said, squeezing Piccolo’s waist.

“Says the man who stripped on a bar until last call…”

Vegeta’s growling laughter made Piccolo pant as he hoisted Piccolo effortlessly onto his hips. Vegeta murmured against his throat where he nipped and sucked, “Shall we see if our bodies still fit together so nicely?”

He knee waddled Piccolo onto the bed and kissed all over Piccolo’s body, mindful of his badly bruised hip, his shattered wrist, and his broken ankle. He handled them delicately and never bumped them. Piccolo’s body moved to meet Vegeta’s mouth wherever his lips touched Piccolo’s skin.

“Gods, I want to do everything with you, but I can’t think straight I want to be inside you so badly,” Vegeta rasped.

Piccolo was only a little embarrassed that he made some hybrid of a groan and a squeak, spreading himself wide before managing to choke out, “Please, Vegeta, I want you. I need you.” Piccolo fumbled lube out of his bedside table and Vegeta took it out of his shaking hands.

Piccolo wasn’t usually nervous about sex, but he didn’t want to tell Vegeta that Vegeta was his only top. He didn’t want to inhibit Vegeta by admitting his novice bottoming skills. Piccolo had no regrets about that night. Vegeta was an excellent top. But Piccolo wished he was just drunk enough to relax.

“Love? You’re trembling. What’s wrong?” Vegeta asked, touching Piccolo’s cheek, his dark eyes searching Piccolo’s.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Piccolo answered and it was the truth. Just not the entire truth.

Vegeta sniffed dramatically. “I smell bullshit, Piccolo.”

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m just a little nervous.”

“Why? I thought last time was incredible. Did I hurt you? Why didn’t you say something?” Vegeta’s brow furrowed.

“I…um…last time I was very drunk, which was helpful because it was, um…it was…just…Fuck. I’d never bottomed before.”

“Gods, Piccolo, why didn’t you tell me? I went to town on you. Did I hurt you? Fuck!”

“No! You didn’t hurt me! But being drunk was…helpful. I was relaxed, you know? Uninhibited. I’ll be fine. I’m just sober right now, so it’s a little different, but I’m fine. I want it.”

Vegeta kissed Piccolo and touched him more, laying aside the lube to kiss down Piccolo’s belly.

“No, Vegeta, damnit, I want it. See, I didn’t tell you before because I knew you wouldn’t fuck m—oh shit! Holy shit, Vegeta!”

Vegeta's tongue slid onto Piccolo’s entrance hard. Piccolo felt extra-sensitive from his nervous anticipation. Vegeta’s tongue was hot and wet and merciless in its search for Piccolo’s pleasure. Vegeta lifted Piccolo’s ass, still mindful of his hip, and used his other hand to spread Piccolo open, giving his tongue even more access.

Piccolo squirmed under the intense sensation, crying out more as Vegeta’s tail at last joined the fray, sliding up Piccolo’s thigh and right onto his prick, coiling around it and slowly jerking Piccolo off.

“Vegeta, fuck, holy shit, your tail…Please stop…I want to come on your dick…”

“Love, you’re going to come so hard on my prick and your sweet ass is going to grip me until I come too. But right now, my tail wants a turn and I want to keep eating your ass until I get to feel you clench on my tongue.”

Just Vegeta’s words in his sexy voice were almost enough to bring Piccolo off, but then the muscular squeezing of Vegeta’s tail tipped him over the edge and he pressed his hips up to meet that fiery velvet grip. Vegeta’s tongue slid inside him as he came and Piccolo shattered into a million points of light as the fullness of his climax exploded inside him.

He gasped Vegeta’s name over and over and over, clutching at him. Vegeta rose up, wiped his mouth, and lubed his cock. “Can I slide inside you, love?”

“Fuck, yes, please, Vegeta. I need you.”

Vegeta curled over Piccolo. They kissed passionately. Vegeta eased himself inside Piccolo, gasping together once Vegeta filled Piccolo entirely. Vegeta whispered, “I love you. Okay if I move?”

“Slow, yeah? Gentle?” Piccolo said. It was more uncomfortable than the other night, but not much.

“Of course, love,” Vegeta said, kissing Piccolo.

“I love you, too, Vegeta.”

Vegeta’s abs trembled as he used them to smoothly roll in and out of Piccolo, adding more lube, and then taking Piccolo’s prick in his hand, pumping it in time with his thrusts. He kissed Piccolo tenderly. He thrust deeper each time and Piccolo’s discomfort disappeared.

After only a few deeper, harder thrusts, Vegeta found Piccolo’s prostate and Piccolo pleaded for Vegeta to hit it more. He wrapped his long, unbroken leg around Vegeta and begged like he would die without it.

“Gods, Vegeta, fuck me so hard. Please! Please! Please! I’m so close. I need you to come inside me, sexy. I need to feel you go off inside me.”

Vegeta’s sweat dripped down on Piccolo. He lunged to kiss Piccolo hard before biting his lip and groaning, “Piccolo, love, you feel fucking amazing…” and Piccolo felt Vegeta fill him with a final savage thrust that pushed Piccolo over the edge.

Neither moved for a long while besides kissing. They kissed and kissed until Vegeta eased out of him with a grimace.

Vegeta kissed him lightly as he hopped up and returned with a towel to clean them up. Piccolo wasn’t exactly surprised by Vegeta’s tenderness, but touched. Vegeta climbed back in bed and resumed kissing where they’d left off. He whispered, “I’ve never bottomed before either, but I would for you.”

Piccolo cuddled up around Vegeta. He felt so content. “Only if you want it. I really like getting fucked by you, sexy.”

“I think I’d like it. I’m nervous too, but yes, I’d like you to fuck me.”

Piccolo felt awash in euphoria as they chatted and touched each other softly, trailing their fingers over one another’s bodies.

They made love again and got ready for bed. After they climbed back into bed and snuggled together, Vegeta booped Piccolo’s nose and said, “No panicked flight tomorrow morning?”

“No. The opposite. Another enthusiastic round. Thanks for forgiving me.” Piccolo said, squeezing Vegeta.

“Tch. See if you’re still glad tomorrow once I’ve put you through the wringer.”

“Are sex breaks off the table during PT?”

“We’ll have to see how compliant a patient you are, love.”

Piccolo laid awake a long time listening to Vegeta’s steady breathing and smelling his comforting scent. Piccolo nuzzled into his wild mane of hair and felt so completely at ease, at peace, though he wished he could undo the hurt he’d caused Vegeta. After a long time he started to drift. Vegeta rolled against him more, held him tighter, and his nose pressed against Piccolo’s skin, breathing Piccolo’s smell in turn.


	4. Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a plot-relevant reference to past roofie/rape in this chapter. It's not a graphic description, but just want to let people know.

Piccolo’s eyes snapped open and his heart-rate revved up the moment he registered a body in the bed beside him. He had a breathless, terrified moment before he remembered the night before. That it was his love: Vegeta. He took several deep breaths to calm himself.

“Love, what’s all this sleep nonsense about?” Vegeta’s sleep-rough voice asked.

When Piccolo didn’t answer, Vegeta pushed himself up on an elbow to look down at Piccolo. Piccolo’s eyes skittered away involuntarily. But he supposed part of loving someone was telling them the truth, even when it was so ugly. Even when it hadn’t seen the light of day in years.

“When I was pretty young, like, twenty-two, I guess, I had just moved up in my company to second. The primo, he, um, he took me out for a drink to celebrate. And the next thing I knew, I was in his bed. He roofied me. I’ve never forgotten that feeling of being unable to hold on to my own memories. Then waking up in his bed terrified and ashamed and sore and confused with cum dripping out my ass. It was awful. Since then, I, uh, I always go home or send my hookups home. I’m not excusing it, but that’s…that’s why I freaked out a bit at your place. The blacked out stuff reminded me of how that felt…and, um, since…since…uh, since I never, um, never bottom, but I did with you…add a little fear and panic, and I…Yeah. So I’m really sorry, but I really wasn’t trying to be a dick. I just…” Piccolo shrugged and turned his face away from Vegeta.

“Gods, Piccolo. Did you press charges?” Vegeta asked.

“No, it would have ruined my career. I just…I was just a lot more careful after that. Sorry. That’s a downer way to start the day.”

“Love, don’t say that. What a terrible thing to endure. No wonder you fled. If I’d been less drunk I wouldn’t have forced my tail on y—“

“For the last fucking time, you didn’t force it! I wanted it. I wanted to bottom. I loved everything we did that night. I just panicked when I had blanks in the morning, because I really never drink like that, so I thought…I thought it had happened again. But not because of anything _you_ did. The disorientation and stuff just triggered me and I’m so sorry. I know how heartbroken you must have felt.”

“I was, but I’m glad I understand. I still had reservations last night, not that it stopped me, but I don’t any more. Do you still dance with the fucker?”

“No. Thankfully. I usurped his position and he left the company in a snit. He teaches now.”

“That’s unfortunate. I hope he’s not preying on those kids.”

“Yeah…” Piccolo felt shitty all over again, as he did periodically, “I wish I had been braver.”

“That’s not what I meant, Piccolo.”

“I know. I still wish I’d pressed charges. I was just so humiliated and ashamed. I had a year of terror wondering if I was going to turn up with HIV because he denied everything when I asked him if he was at least clean. Pretended he had no idea what I was talking about.”

Vegeta kissed him softly and murmured, “Oh, love, that must have been so scary. Since Saiyans are immune to all known STDs, I forget that added terror exists for other species when they get raped.”

“Ugh, don’t call it that,” Piccolo said, his whole body shriveling in on itself.

“What else could I possibly call it?”

“I don’t know. Yuck. I’m gross.”

“You’re not _gross_ , Piccolo,” Vegeta whispered and kissed him again, “Just unlucky.”

Piccolo gave Vegeta a lazy smile and said, “I feel pretty lucky right now. Like the luckiest man in the world.” He curled up to kiss Vegeta. Vegeta moved above him to kiss him more deeply. Vegeta’s seal-skin-soft tail wrapped tightly around his thigh as they kissed and caressed more.

“You want to fuck me this morning?” Vegeta whispered.

“Mmm…no, I want you to fuck me. I want to take my time with you and I know we have work to do today. I’d also like the use of both my hands when I fuck you.”

Vegeta growled, “I suppose I can be patient, but only because I love fucking you.”

“I think my theory that our bodies were made for each other has been validated.”

“Now, now, replication of experiments is the only way to truly validate a hypotheses.”

“So you’re saying we’ll have to collect more data, sexy? Check all positions?” Piccolo said with a smirk.

“Yes, I think so. There’s no other way. Let the experiments commence,” Vegeta said with a grin and kissed Piccolo more, frotting with him until they were both moaning so much they could barely kiss.

“I want you inside me, Vegeta,” Piccolo gasped.

“Can I take you from behind?”

Piccolo rolled over awkwardly due to his shattered, battered joints. Once he was on his belly, Vegeta kissed all over his back and ass, squeezing each cheek in his rough, powerful hands. “Gods, Piccolo, your ass…doing PT without groping and biting this beautiful part of your beautiful body was torture. Fuck, I couldn’t stop thinking about your ass. I want to touch it all the time.”

“You won’t hear me complaining,” Piccolo said, “Your hands are magic.”

Vegeta reached to kiss Piccolo’s mouth when Piccolo turned to look over his shoulder. Vegeta’s lube-slick finger slid inside Piccolo and he added a second as Piccolo began to moan and writhe. The fingers left him and Piccolo felt the fullness of Vegeta’s thick cock driving inside him. Vegeta growled deep in his throat and murmured in Saiyan as he plunged deeper inside Piccolo, giving his ass an appreciative slap.

Piccolo felt near to weeping with pleasure as Vegeta pressed their bodies tightly together. Vegeta’s mouth was on his back and shoulders, and Piccolo wanted to kiss him he was so hungry for Vegeta. He didn’t know how he would do any PT at all.

Vegeta whispered his love for Piccolo, sucking the taut skin on Piccolo's back, thrusting hard, and saying over and over, “You’re mine, Piccolo. _Mine_.” 

Those possessive words in Vegeta’s gravelly, animalistic voice set Piccolo off and he whimpered as he came, Vegeta hitting his p-spot relentlessly, even after he’d finished. Vegeta’s teeth were on his skin. Vegeta quivered with effort and Piccolo realized that the was shaking from the effort of restraining himself from biting Piccolo while he came. Piccolo shivered, wishing he had, but knowing the moment had passed.

After thrusting right through their aftershocks, Vegeta growled more Saiyan and grazed his teeth along the ropes of muscle running alongside Piccolo’s spine. The occasional, “Mine,” was the only English he spoke.

He pulled out of Piccolo with more affectionate growling and nipping, biting along his jaw as he helped Piccolo roll over. He kissed Piccolo’s mouth, sucking his top lip, his bottom, then thrusting his tongue into Piccolo’s mouth, his hands caressing ceaselessly so that Piccolo was already hard again.

Vegeta sucked his way down Piccolo’s neck and Piccolo gasped, “What are you saying?”

“That you’re mine. That I’ll protect you. Keep you safe,” he leaned back to look into Piccolo’s eyes and smirked, “Keep you satisfied.”

“You definitely do that,” Piccolo said and kissed Vegeta more.

Vegeta didn’t let them bask in the afterglow long. He cleaned them up and helped Piccolo get situated on his scooter. Piccolo grumbled, “I hate this fucking thing already.”

“You’ll thank me when you’re pirouetting like your ankle was never broken.”

“I know. I just feel stupid. Graceless. Lumbering.”

“Understandable. But you’re not going to be non-compliant, right?”

“I’ll behave as long as you keep fucking me so perfectly,” Piccolo said and stole another kiss.

Vegeta smirked. “That I can promise. Let’s get to work so I can get back to it.”

That day was the first day that Piccolo understood why a certain soulless brutality was a feature, not a bug, in a physical therapist. Most of the day was agony, exhausting mentally, if not exactly physically. It required Piccolo to fight every instinct in his body that told him to keep his ankle and wrist completely immobilized. To fight the powerful muscles that were happy to pick up a little extra work and make the weaker ones do it instead so they could become stronger. Piccolo had spent most of his life figuring out how to make his body do exactly what he wanted, but this was different.

After a particularly taxing series of exercises, Vegeta pushed Piccolo onto his back and stripped off his shorts—the only thing he was wearing. He swallowed Piccolo whole.

“Good gods, Vegeta, your fucking mouth!” Piccolo cried out.

Vegeta very briefly pulled off and said, “I never got to taste you the other night because you wouldn’t sixty-nine with me.”

“I’m bad at it,” Piccolo protested, “I get too excited to give good head when I’m getting it.”

“We’ll just have to practice then, won’t we.”

Piccolo froze as Vegeta’s finger traced the tightly closed slit behind Piccolo’s balls. “This is how you mate with males, yes? I’ve never been with a Namek before.”

Piccolo had hoped this wouldn’t come up for a while. He knew that Vegeta knew he was a hermaphrodite, but Piccolo didn’t expect him to find his _theadur_ so soon. “Yeah…it’s…um…it’s supposed to be like Saiyan tails, you know. A pair-bonding thing.”

Vegeta stopped and sat up. His eyebrows scrunched together. “Supposed to be?” Vegeta said and looked into Piccolo’s eyes. His face collapsed and he pulled Piccolo’s whole, long body into his lap, wrapping him tightly in his arms. “Oh, Piccolo, I’m so sorry. Gods, what a fucking monster.”

Piccolo burst into tears, the heaving sobs wracking his body. He only told a single soul that Zarbon had done more than ass-rape him, and then only out of necessity. Piccolo turned up pregnant. So he went to his only close Namek friend, who happened to be a healer, and filled with shame and self-loathing pleaded for him to perform a risky abortion. Namek hybrid eggs could kill their fathers if they broke internally, so few healers dared to do abortions. Dende was all kindness and compassion about it, as Piccolo knew he would be, but that didn’t make the whole horrible experience any easier to bear. To be so tainted, then to have that secondary trauma. Piccolo hated that Vegeta knew. He sobbed harder.

Vegeta held him and kissed his shoulder softly and said nothing as Piccolo cried. Piccolo appreciated that Vegeta didn’t press him. He would tell Vegeta, just not that moment. Piccolo had pushed that hurt so deep in his mind that festered and now cleaning it out might be pretty awful. Acknowledging what else Zarbon took from him that night made Piccolo sick to his stomach. Before he fell in love, it was easier not to think about the fact that Piccolo might not be able to pair-bond like a Namek. But he loved Vegeta. Loved him forever. And he wanted it. Badly.

Vegeta’s tail coiled around Piccolo, petting him softly, brushing away his tears and giving him gentle, reassuring squeezes. When he’d mastered his emotions again, he pulled away a little. Vegeta kissed his cheeks, his forehead, his mouth. “Let it out, love, let it out. Who? Who did this thing to you?”

“It doesn’t matter, Vegeta. I couldn’t press charges now. It’s been too long and I didn’t do a rape kit at the time. I should have, but…gods, I just…I was so ashamed. _Theadurs_ , that’s what they’re called, they…they aren’t meant to know more than one.”

Vegeta’s eyebrows formed a steep, worried mountain, but his eyes burned with rage. “Tell me who did this to you, Piccolo. Tell me.”

Vegeta’s eyes were dark and dangerous. Piccolo knew what he was possibly doing by telling Vegeta. He stammered, “Zarbon. It was when I danced for Frieza’s company before I moved to Krillin’s because Frieza is a dick to work for and I wanted to dance with Bulma.”

“Where does this Zarbon motherfucker teach now?” Vegeta’s voice was cold and flat. Piccolo saw his mercenary side and it was terrifying.

“I don’t want you to do something stupid, Vegeta,” Piccolo whispered.

“I don’t do stupid things, I assure you.” Vegeta searched Piccolo’s eyes. He touched his jaw and kissed him more. “Tell me. I’ll find out anyway, it will just take me longer and be more irritating if I have to discover it on my own.”

“I don’t want you to go to jail for murdering a guy who raped me almost a decade ago.”

Vegeta’s smile was sinister as he flared a nostril and said, “Killing a monster isn’t murder.”

“Not sure that argument will hold up in court, sexy, especially in a pretty Xandrite friendly city.”

Vegeta held Piccolo’s hips in his big hands and his dark eyes bored into Piccolo’s. “Tell me.”

“Ballet and More, on Fifty-seventh, by that really good bagel place, you know?”

“See, that wasn’t so hard. That place does make amazing bagels but I can never remember the name.”

Piccolo almost started to cry again as he said, “I don’t want to lose you, I just found you.”

“You won’t. I promise. Did he…injure you? Permanently?”

Piccolo took a shaky breath. “No. I mean, I don’t think so. I don’t…um…I don’t really touch myself there. My ass took a few weeks to heal up. But _theadurs_ are resilient.” Piccolo couldn’t help but look away from Vegeta’s intense gaze as he said, “I…um…I did have to have an abortion, which went well, thankfully. Pretty unpleasant though.”

“Fuck, Piccolo, you haven’t masturbated there in a decade? And I just penetrated your ass like it was no big deal? No wonder you fled. I ripped open a lot of old wounds.”

“No, it wasn’t like that. Just when I woke up disoriented with holes in my memory and cum in my ass, I freaked out. I never felt anything but pleasure while we were going at it. I swear. Don’t look sad. I’m only sad that I was so drunk I can’t remember it all. And that I was an asshole in the morning. I’m really sorry, Vegeta, this is a lot to throw at you on what is essentially a second date.”

“Well, we sort of skipped the beginning and the middle of more traditional relationship trajectories,” Vegeta said, finally smirking. He pulled Piccolo’s mouth to his and kissed him deeply. “You avoided my question, love.”

Piccolo’s normally proud bearing left him and he slumped bonelessly in Vegeta’s arms, unable to meet his lover’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter, does it? Can we just leave this behind?”

“Piccolo, of course it _matters_. You can’t leave it behind if you don’t deal with it. Come here,” Vegeta murmured against Piccolo’s neck. Piccolo hadn’t realized he was shrinking away from Vegeta. “Come here. Hey,” Vegeta gently tipped Piccolo’s face until he was looking in Vegeta’s eyes. “I love you. This doesn’t change that. I just want to love you properly, so I’m not upsetting you or triggering you, okay?”

Piccolo nodded and tried not to turn away from Vegeta's dark, searching eyes. Piccolo said, barely a whisper, “No. I haven’t masturbated with my sheath or my ass since it happened. I don’t know why. The healer I went to for my abortion said there wasn’t obvious physical damage. He…he didn’t know what it meant…” Piccolo started to tremble again. What if Vegeta didn’t want him as an unwhole Namek, unable to truly bond? “What it meant for my ability to pair-bond like a real Namek.”

Vegeta made a sour face and grumbled, “You’re a real Namek and you can pair-bond with whoever you like no matter what your _theadur_ does.”

“I guess so, but it behaves differently with my mate. Or it should,” Piccolo’s throat tightened at the end so he barely got the words out.

Vegeta kissed him more. “I know that’s upsetting, but know that I don’t give a shit as long as I get to be with you.”

“What if I’m sterile because of the abortion? Or…or because of him.”

Vegeta shrugged. “Then we stay childless. Or adopt. I’m not worried if I have you.”

“How can you just…just accept it?” Piccolo said, angry even though Vegeta’s response was better than his fantasies of having someone love him despite the revelation of this awful episode from his past.

Vegeta kissed him fiercely and growled, “Because I love you, and though I’m sorry you had to experience it, it’s a part of you. And I love all that you are.”

A wet, weepy laugh burbled out of Piccolo. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes, you do. I’m glad we made complete asses of ourselves at the bar.”

Piccolo relaxed some and kissed Vegeta back. He said, “Yeah, me too. You are an excellent stripper.”

“Be that as it may, I believe I’ll leave the dancing to you from here on out.”

“Except maybe in private? For me?”

“Oh? Would you like your own little show?” Vegeta said and a devilish smirk spread on his face.

Piccolo slid his hand down Vegeta’s belly into the ridiculously oversized pair of shorts he’d borrowed from Piccolo. “Depends. Do I get to touch?”

“That’ll cost you extra,” Vegeta purred.

“Oh? And what forms of payment do you accept?” Piccolo gripped Vegeta, his cock hardening instantly.

Vegeta’s mouth plundered Piccolo’s. He gasped, “Kisses are my preferred currency, but I’ll accept whine-free sets of exercises.”

“What about fucking? Can I offer my ass up in exchange for watching you bare your perfect fucking body?”

“It seems a logical form of reimbursement.”

“Strip for me? Yeah? Now?” Piccolo said, already panting.

“Pushy, aren’t you?” Vegeta murmured against Piccolo’s lips. “I will, but I have a request of my own. Touch yourself while I do it? Please?”

Piccolo flopped onto his back. “Seriously?”

“I don’t mean jerking off, Piccolo.”

Piccolo squirmed. “Really?”

“It will turn me on so much, love.”

“Depraved is what you are.”

“Gods, I am. And I intend to make you as depraved as me,” Vegeta said, rolling his hips as he stood, his control excellent. Belly dancer levels of control. As his hips hypnotized Piccolo, he spun slowly so Piccolo could appreciate his abs and ass in turn. Vegeta began unrolling the waistband of the shorts, taking out the tuck he’d made so they would stay up.

Once they were loose and falling off, he held his very obvious erection through the shorts so they only hung on him by his hand and cock. He put his back toward Piccolo and folded himself in half, slowly dropping into a wide squat that left nothing hidden. Piccolo couldn’t help but imagine taking hold of that firm, muscular ass and driving himself into Vegeta’s tight, perfect pucker.

Piccolo cupped one rock-hard cheek in his big green hand, loving the look of their skin together. Vegeta gave him a lascivious look over his shoulder and rose up slowly, dropping the shorts and stepping out of them. He rocked his hips suggestively while he turned back around, pre-cum beading on his slit. He crossed his arms, grabbing the hem of his wife-beater, and he slowly tugged it over his head. It fit much better than the shorts since his upper body was so muscular. He teased it off, tossed it off to the side.

Naked, he knelt before Piccolo and said, “You are not holding up your end of the deal.”

“I was too distracted,” Piccolo said, and it was the truth.

“Come on, love, give me my show. I’ll join you, if you like.”

“Really?” Piccolo said, the thought making him harder.

“Of course. Regardless of your history, I want to watch you pleasure yourself. It turns me on.”

Piccolo pulled Vegeta into his lap and kissed him. “If I’m not mistaken, you’re already pretty turned on…”

“Too true, love. I’ll finger my ass for you, which I’ve only ever done a few times, so we can be novices together, yes?”

“That does sound hot,” Piccolo said, kissing Vegeta more. He handed Vegeta the lube and whispered, a little ashamed of his own nervousness, “Can we, um…can we start off kissing?”

“Of course, love. Here, give me your good hand.” Vegeta lubed their fingers like he was jerking them off. Pre-cum dripped out of both of them as they frotted. Vegeta moved Piccolo’s fingers down onto his bud and murmured, “You sure you won’t let me watch? It’ll be so hot, watching you explore, find what feels good…”

“Kiss me again, then I’ll let you watch.”

“No touching your dick. Your cast is useful for that.”

“What?!” Piccolo said.

“Get off without it.”

“I don’t think I can, Vegeta,” Piccolo said, his stomach fluttering in such a way that he couldn’t tell if he was excited or nervous. Maybe both.

“If I can get you off without it, you can do it yourself, love. Be patient with yourself.”

“Vegeta, it’s different, just you touching me almost gets me off—“

“Nonsense. Be a good compliant patient, Piccolo,” Vegeta said and gave his hand another push.

Vegeta pulled away from the kiss. Piccolo’s eyes found Vegeta’s glittering hungrily as they watched his hand. Vegeta’s fingers explored his own pucker as he scooted back from Piccolo. He spread his legs wide and breathed, “You see okay, love?”

“Yeah. Gods, sexy, you were right, this is so fucking hot.”

“Spread wider for me, Piccolo. Wider. Yes, fuck, yes,” Vegeta growled. Even Vegeta’s eyes could turn Piccolo on as he squirmed under Vegeta’s voracious gaze.

The pads of Piccolo’s fingers grazed each ridge of skin surrounding his entrance while he imagined it was Vegeta he was touching. He watched Vegeta, trying to see exactly what he liked. Piccolo wanted to the best top possible for Vegeta. The thought alone made Piccolo’s bud relax enough that he could comfortably dip inside himself with his forefinger, eliciting a growl of satisfaction from Vegeta.

When Vegeta thrust his middle finger deeply inside himself, Piccolo groaned and trembled, aching to be the one touching Vegeta. He knew now that coming without his dick would be no problem if he could keep watching Vegeta. He rasped, “If I’m a good patient and get myself off without touching my prick, can I finger you, Vegeta?”

“Fuck, yes, Piccolo. Just imagining you touching me is making me so hard.”

Piccolo slid his middle finger alongside his index finger and pushed both more deeply inside himself with a guttural noise of pleasure.

“Yes, love, holy shit this is so hot watching you. Find your spot for me. Find it!”

Piccolo obeyed, thrusting deeper until a flash of sublime pleasure coincided with his fingers finding a bulge of firm flesh inside himself. He rubbed it and squirmed with another strangled noise of pleasure. Until Vegeta, he hadn’t understood what the big deal about prostate orgasms was. Vegeta had shown him, so he knew what that spot could do to him. He whimpered as he pulsed on it, unsure if he could hold still enough to bring himself off.

“Fuck, Vegeta, I love when your dick touches me here. Oh fuck…”

“Harder, love, deeper. Put those beautiful long fingers to use. Harder, Piccolo, deeper.”

Piccolo found Vegeta directing his masturbation remarkably hot. He complied, slamming his hand against his ass to hit his spot harder. He gasped and couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way Vegeta was working his own ass. “Vegeta, holy shit, holy shit, I want to be inside you so bad.”

“Then be a compliant patient and come for me. Push yourself hard, love. Deep and hard so you can come for me. I want to watch you clench. Watch your cum spill out of your slit.”

Piccolo, it turned out, loved it when Vegeta talked dirty to him and he exploded, his eyes clamping shut in his ecstasy, even though he wanted to watch Vegeta. In a lightning flash of pressure, he was screaming Vegeta’s name, coming all over himself, and Vegeta was on him, moving his hand. He kissed Piccolo fiercely as he thrust his throbbing erection inside Piccolo’s still twitching ass. They wailed together. Vegeta seized Piccolo’s hand, moved it back over his hip.

Vegeta pleaded, “Finger me, love, while I fuck your perfect ass. Now. I need it.”

Piccolo had never been more grateful for his long arms. He reached and found Vegeta’s opening eager for his touch.

Vegeta groaned as Piccolo teased him, “No, love, that won’t do. Finger me deep with those long, beautiful fingers. So fucking deep. Hurry. I want to come with you inside me.”

Piccolo _liked_ bossy Vegeta. Liked him enough that he was hard again before he’d ever gone fully soft. He plunged his middle two fingers into Vegeta and cried out at the tight ring of heat. “Fuck, sexy, I’m gonna come just from fingering your tight little ass.”

Vegeta chuckled and thrust hard against Piccolo’s p-spot, making him gasp. “Just fingering me? Not my cock working your spot just how you like?” He hit Piccolo’s p-spot again and again.

“Vegeta, oh fuck, Vegeta, gods! Your dick is so good! It feels so fucking good to be inside you while you’re inside me!”

“It is fucking perfect. Fuck, love, are you going to come again for me? Are you going to come for your mate?”

Piccolo’s heart thwapped arrhythmically around his chest hearing Vegeta use that word. Vegeta still chose him despite his potentially defective _theadur_ , despite his past, despite what an asshole Piccolo had been.

Piccolo whispered, looking in Vegeta’s eyes, “Only for you, Vegeta. I’ll only come for you.” Another intense orgasm blasted out from the epicenter of Piccolo’s pleasure that Vegeta commanded so skillfully with his cock. He clung to Vegeta as they trembled together and he felt Vegeta’s seed fill him until it was spilling out of Piccolo.

Vegeta’s mouth roved over him, back to growling in Saiyan as he kissed and bit and licked his way around Piccolo’s body. His tail did its own circuit, but mostly squeezing Piccolo’s thigh in a loving, velvety hug.

“Fuck, Vegeta, that was incredible.”

“It was. Gods, I need a nap.” Vegeta stopped his oral explorations and settled on kissing Piccolo’s mouth. He kissed Piccolo until Piccolo was hard again and panting.

“Vegeta—“

Vegeta kissed him more.

“How—“

Kissing.

“Are—“

Even more furious kissing.

“We—“

“Shush, love, let me kiss you, stop interrupting me,” Vegeta growled and kissed Piccolo more. Piccolo was so hard he was squirming, gasping, and writhing against Vegeta. He couldn’t think straight due to Vegeta kissing him stupid.

When Vegeta at last relinquished his mouth, he no longer wanted Vegeta to stop kissing him and he whimpered in protest. Vegeta purred, running his hand down Piccolo’s throbbing erection, “Now you’ll be a good, compliant, hard-working patient, won’t you? You’ll get through the rest of your exercises quickly, but thoroughly?”

Piccolo pouted dramatically and crossed his arms. “Not fair, Vegeta.”

“I need you to be properly motivated.”

“I’m motivated to get your dick in my ass.”

“Then show me. Come on. Back to work. Up, up, up!”

“Yeah, I am up, up, up, thanks to your fucking ruthless kissing,” Piccolo grumbled, getting up on his good leg.

Vegeta gestured to his own hard-on and said, “We’re in this together. Let’s get to it.”

Vegeta worked Piccolo hard the rest of the day, his expertise in dance showing as he kept Piccolo’s other muscles in excellent condition. They kissed frequently, and Piccolo was grateful that was allowed, at least. Vegeta constantly pressed his lips to Piccolo’s bare skin and whispered in Saiyan, but he stubbornly refused to translate, only answering, “It’s all love, Piccolo. I’m just in love.”

Piccolo felt himself blushing more than once at Vegeta’s Saiyan murmurings, not even knowing what they meant, but purely from Vegeta’s tone, from the fire in his little mate’s eyes.

All of it meant that Piccolo was wiped out at the end of the day. Exhausted like he’d rarely been in his life. He drooped onto Vegeta as they showered together. Vegeta caressed his back and said, “I’m going to run home and get some things, okay? I’ll be back in a couple hours with take-out. You like take-out, right?”

Piccolo stood up. “What? No! Stay. Fuck your stuff, we can go get it tomorrow. Please?”

“I need my toothbrush.”

“I gave you one last night!”

“I like mine better, and I look ridiculous in your clothes.”

“Which is just one more reason not to wear them.”

“Piccolo, I’m not a fucking house cat, you’ll have to let me out occasionally. I have a couple errands to run.”

Piccolo tried not to laugh, but failed and grumped, “Oh fine. Can I go with?”

“No, you need to rest. Today was a lot. I’m going to get you back dancing, but what’s the rule?”

“I have to listen to you,” Piccolo muttered.

“What kind of take-out and where?”

“I’ll order. Text me when you’re done with your mystery errands,” Piccolo said, still pouting a little.

“I do have to go let Broly down.”

“Seriously? You’re not going to fuck him, are you?”

“No, love, I’m not going to fuck him. But I _am_ going to tell him in person that I won’t be fucking him anymore.”

“Not gonna blow him?”

“No. Though I think I _like_ making you jealous,” Vegeta said with a wicked smile as he quipped Piccolo’s chin. He finished putting his suit back on, which only made Piccolo want him more. Vegeta kissed him and said, “I’ll text when I’m headed back and you’ll tell me where to get food, yes?”

“Yeah,” Piccolo said, then added, feeling stupid and shy, but wanting to say it anyway, “I love you, sexy.”

Vegeta kissed him soundly and said, “Mmm…and I love you. Back soon, love,” and Vegeta disappeared into the early evening.


	5. Saiyan Justice

Piccolo assumed Vegeta would be gone an hour, tops, but as the second hour came to a close, sirens wailed. Fear tickled its way up Piccolo’s spine. More and more sirens followed. Piccolo stepped out onto his balcony. News helicopters swarmed over the lower south side of the city. Fear scratched its way up to terror and Piccolo’s skin shrank with goosebumps.

He searched local news. His phone chimed.

_Headed your way—food address?_

Piccolo absently ordered them some food and texted Vegeta back. He returned to the evolving news. It was very vague, so he turned to civilian posts about what had happened and found a gruesome video. Piccolo’s skin itched and his heart raced. A man had been flayed, castrated alive, and strung up by his bloody “wings.” He dangled, dripping over the street as the emergency workers hurried to cut him down. The cameraman filmed the ground where blood and viscera clearly spelled out, in huge letters, the word RAPIST.

Piccolo’s breathing became almost uncontrollable, despite years of practice controlling it. But he wasn’t sure. He hadn’t yet gotten a good look. He searched for more information and found another video, one taken after they’d gotten the man down. In the amateur video, Piccolo heard someone talking about what was in the man’s throat—that he had died suffocating on his own torn off cock. That there had been torture.

This method of killing was not new. It was the calling card of the most feared Saiyan clans in the city that were collectively referred to as “Saiyan Justice” by most non-Saiyans. Saiyans tended to snort and retort, “You mean Saiyans.” Though law enforcement liked to call them a gang and organized crime, most other people just thought of them as vigilantes. The crimes they perpetrated, almost without exception, were torturing and murdering rapists and pedophiles. 

Rape victims in the city tended to forego the police and head straight to the Saiyans, who resolved things quite efficiently without being asked. Their preternatural sense of smell meant if someone had been raped, and came to them, there was almost no escaping discovery by the bipedal wolves of the city. Saiyans were notorious for creatively torturing rapists.

Piccolo found another angle on the man before they’d cut him down. His face had been peeled off, but Piccolo would know that green braid anywhere. That green braid swung through Piccolo’s nightmares with cruel laughter as its soundtrack. Piccolo held his mouth in his hand, tried not to hyperventilate.

Vegeta was a physical therapist, a surgeon, surely he wasn’t a part of that nebulous group, Saiyan Justice? Piccolo thought of the way Vegeta told his terrifying stories from his mercenary days, like they were blasé, like it had been no big deal to sew his comrades’ guts back into them with his own hair, like tearing someone’s head off in such a way as to reduce the amount of blood you got on yourself was an art, like murder was just something that had to be done occasionally. Piccolo’s mind raced to what the bartender had said about the group of Saiyans that Vegeta came in with. That nothing bad ever happened in his bar when they were there. Like people feared them.

People feared Saiyans in general, so that didn’t _really_ mean anything, but even if Vegeta hadn’t done this, he surely knew Saiyans that engaged in vigilante activities. The terrifying rage that had flashed in Vegeta’s eyes when he put together what had been done to Piccolo came back to him. Piccolo swallowed hard. Had Piccolo caused this? Was Vegeta the type of man to ask someone else to do what he thought was necessary? Why else would he have asked Piccolo where Zarbon taught?

In truth, he didn’t feel as bad as he thought he ought to about potentially condemning a former colleague to torture and murder. Zarbon had caused Piccolo a lot of suffering. Piccolo also doubted he was the only one. The only anguish Piccolo truly felt was at the thought of losing Vegeta. Piccolo jumped when a knock came at his door. It would be the police. Piccolo was an accessory after all. And anyone who had seen Vegeta that night in the bar would remember Piccolo.

Piccolo’s heart thundered as he opened the door, but it was only Vegeta, with his small bag and their takeout, dressed casually in jeans, and looking as relaxed as if he had just had a massage or a good nap. Piccolo bent and kissed him.

Vegeta noticed Piccolo’s distress immediately. “You’re pale, love, and shaking. What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did you fucking hop to the door? Damnit, Piccolo!”

“Vegeta…are you…um, are you part of…” Piccolo’s voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper, “Saiyan Justice?”

Vegeta flared a nostril and narrowed his eyes. “What an absurd thing to ask. ‘Saiyan Justice’ isn’t a real group—non-Saiyans just can’t handle that there’s no spooky gang in the shadows. Saiyans occasionally flay and kill rapists, as rapists deserve. I heard some of my kin sniffed one out in the south part of the city and made an example of him. Is that what has you looking so ill? Even so, no hopping,” Vegeta said, booped Piccolo’s nose, and scooped Piccolo up in his arms like a bride.

Piccolo nodded and whispered, “Your…kin?”

“My fellow Saiyans. We’re all kin, even if we’re not related. Why are you worried about a dead rapist?”

“Vegeta—it was Zarbon. _Somebody_ skinned and castrated Zarbon.”

Vegeta chuckled merrily as he plated their food. “Excellent! Word does travel fast amongst my kin.”

Piccolo stood close to Vegeta and breathed, his eyes holding Vegeta’s, “Did you do this?”

Vegeta’s eyes held his and he answered darkly, “Don’t ask questions you don’t really want to know the answer to, love. A Saiyan did this, without a doubt, and will likely never be caught. Sneaky motherfuckers, we Saiyans.”

“Vegeta!” Piccolo nearly whined, “I don’t want you to go to jail!” Terror made his vision darken. Piccolo feared he might faint.

Vegeta looked so calm though, so at ease. Surely he hadn’t been gone long enough for what had been done to Zarbon. He held Piccolo’s waist firmly and said, "No one is going to jail for Zarbon’s execution, love. Let’s eat out on the balcony, it’s perfect out right now.”

Piccolo realized as he watched Vegeta set up their dinner, that it _aroused_ him that Vegeta had done this terrible thing for _him_. For Piccolo. Not because Piccolo had asked him to, but because _Vegeta_ wanted vengeance for Piccolo’s violation. He hadn’t second-guessed Piccolo, or asked for his permission, or even told him. Vegeta simply meted out gruesome justice in the manner of his people on behalf of his love, Piccolo.

Piccolo scooted his chair closer to Vegeta at the table on the balcony. Vegeta’s hand and tail found Piccolo’s thigh and both squeezed it. Piccolo met Vegeta’s dark eyes nervously and said, “You won’t leave me?”

“Nothing can take me away from you, Piccolo,” Vegeta answered and Piccolo believed him.

Piccolo whispered, “Thank you.”

Vegeta’s eyes flashed, steely and possessive and terrifying. “My pleasure, love. Let’s speak no more about it.”

Piccolo turned his mind away from what he’d seen. What he’d caused by telling Vegeta his revolting secret. What Vegeta had done for him. He asked, “How did Broly take it?”

Vegeta smirked. “He said he knew at dinner the other night. He said you looked lovesick.”

“That was truly a miserable evening.”

“It certainly was.”

“He’s not jealous?” Piccolo asked, imagining Broly breaking through his walls like the Kool-Aid man.

“No. Broly and I have fucked for ages, but we’ve also known for ages that we aren’t _minaiyas_. It’s a relief to have someone you like and can casually fuck without risking broken hearts.”

Piccolo shifted and dread filled him. “Um, but…I mean…not anymore, right? Or at least not without me?” Piccolo’s stomach twisted painfully.

A goofy smile spread on Vegeta’s face as he chortled out, “Did you just suggest a three-way with Broly?”

Piccolo’s eyes widened and he stammered, “No! I…Um…I…Well, I’m open to it…At dinner I…fuck. Never mind. I’m going to shut up.” Piccolo’s cheeks burned.

“Oh no, you can’t unsay that, love,” Vegeta said merrily and began rapid-fire texting.

“Don’t tell him I said that, Vegeta!” Piccolo protested, trying half-heartedly to get Vegeta’s phone.

“Oh, I’m definitely telling him. He asked the exact same thing.”

“Vegeta! Can’t we…Can’t we get used to fucking each other before we bring in a third?” Piccolo found the idea of Broly and Vegeta titillating, but too much. Plus Piccolo was _very_ jealous of Broly. He wanted Vegeta all to himself right now.

Vegeta laughed more and planted a kiss on Piccolo’s nose. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered, _minaiya_. Of course we’ll wait, and we don’t ever have to have a third. But he and I had a little wager going, that’s why I have to text him.”

Piccolo crossed his arms and tried to appear put out. Vegeta kissed his half-assed scowl and continued, “I _won_. I told him I thought you were having triangular thoughts at dinner and he thought you had eyes only for me.”

“I do have eyes only for you, Vegeta!” Piccolo shouted with alarm.

“Piccolo, love, my sweet dancer, I’m not mad that you find Broly sexually attractive. I do too. I’ll only be mad if you have secret sex with him.”

“I would _never_ do that!” Piccolo screeched.

“I know,” Vegeta said, chortling more, “That’s why I’m so amused!”

“I’m not a cheater!” Piccolo continued.

Vegeta laughed more and started kissing Piccolo with intention, straddling his lap, and he ground their fast-rising hard-ons together. “You’re so easy to fluster, Piccolo. It’s irresistible.”

“I know I fucked up the other morning, but I’m not a cheater, Vegeta. I would never betray you.”

“I know, love. Don’t get all worked up. I wasn’t suggesting you would. Settle down, I know.”

Piccolo finally relaxed and gripped Vegeta’s hips, rolled his own against Vegeta’s. “I don’t think I will settle down, sexy. I might even get more riled up. See if I can get you riled up too.”

Vegeta slid Piccolo’s tank up and off as Piccolo grabbed at Vegeta’s shirt’s hem. Vegeta’s lips pulled hungrily at Piccolo’s mouth, his tongue insistently twisting with Piccolo’s until they were both panting and shoving down their pants, heedless of the fact that they were out on Piccolo’s balcony, clearly visible to neighbors and the street below.

“I can’t wait, Piccolo. I need you tonight. I need you to fuck me. I won’t feel whole until you fuck me. Please?” Vegeta gasped.

“I have to fucking _scoot_ inside to fuck you, but will you try to pretend that I’m carrying you, because I wish I could carry you,” Piccolo rasped back, as he awkwardly got up.

Vegeta quickly hoisted Piccolo up on his hips and grinned. “Like this?”

“Just like this,” Piccolo said and laughed. He kissed Vegeta and whispered, “Fuck, Vegeta, I’m afraid I’m going to last two seconds I want you so bad.”

“Then you’ll have to fuck me again, as two seconds is not enough, even though I’m rather on edge myself.”

Vegeta laid Piccolo on the bed and they laughed as they tried to find a position that satisfied the PT in Vegeta. Piccolo flopped onto his back and said, “Fuck, just ride me, Vegeta,” his hips already rolling up in anticipation.

“Yeah, warm me up though?” Vegeta said, his eyes a little nervous.

“Fuck yes, turn that perfect ass around,” Piccolo purred and curled up to suck hard on Vegeta’s right cheek. Piccolo lubed his uninjured hand with help from Vegeta and slid his middle finger into Vegeta, who was still a little slick inside from earlier. “Holy shit, Vegeta, I could come just fingering you. Your tight little ass is the fucking best thing I’ve ever felt.”

“That won’t get you out of fucking me…” Vegeta breathed as he pushed back to take Piccolo deeper inside him.

“I don’t _want_ to get out of fucking you. I want to fuck you until you can’t walk.”

“I’m Saiyan, so you’ll have to fuck me quite a lot for that,” Vegeta said with a smirk over his shoulder.

Piccolo sat up behind Vegeta and bit his ear. Sucked it. Swirled his tongue inside it. He whispered, “Is that why you were thinking of a threesome? So Broly and I could tag-team you until you came so many times you ran out of giz?”

Vegeta shivered and turned acrobatically to kiss Piccolo before he growled, “No. I wanted you to fuck me while I fucked him because you’re _mine_. And you’re the only man I’ll let inside me. I wish that I could be inside you at the same time, so I’d fuck Broly, but pretend it was you so I could feel like I was in you and on you at the same time.”

Piccolo felt Vegeta’s opening relax and widen for him. He added another finger and pumped a few times, still kissing Vegeta. Piccolo kissed along Vegeta’s jaw and gasped against Vegeta’s ear, “Are you ready for me, sexy?”

“Gods, yes, Piccolo, please…” Vegeta begged, arching back toward Piccolo.

“Turn around, Vegeta, I want to see your face while I fuck you,” Piccolo said, lubing his prick. He brushed the fingers of his broken hand up and down Vegeta’s muscular thigh.

Once Vegeta was adjusted, he looked down on Piccolo while Piccolo held his cock in place for Vegeta. Vegeta’s hot pucker touched his tip and Piccolo groaned. Vegeta took a deep breath and stared into Piccolo’s eyes as he lowered himself down Piccolo’s shaft, his ass so tight that Piccolo could have come immediately. Vegeta’s mouth fell open and he gasped something in Saiyan, his eyes still on Piccolo’s.

Piccolo thrust up gently into Vegeta and filled his little Saiyan lover more. Vegeta spread his hands on Piccolo’s pecs and whispered, “Oh, _minaiya_ , you fill me up…”

“You feel amazing on my dick, Vegeta. I love you.”

“You’re mine, Piccolo,” Vegeta said. He bent and kissed Piccolo, began to move a little with breathy cries, and whispered, “Fuck, you’re huge.”

“Easy, sexy, no rush. Give yourself a minute to adjust. Easy,” Piccolo whispered, letting his good hand languidly stroke Vegeta’s cock.

“No, it’s perfect. You fill me up completely. I love you. Say you’re mine,” Vegeta said.

“I’m yours. And you’re mine, Vegeta. Mine,” Piccolo growled, feeling more animal by the minute as he began to buck up into Vegeta, watching his face. “Okay, sexy?”

“Yes, fuck yes, more.”

“Then say it,” Piccolo demanded.

“What?” Vegeta asked, his eyes a little dazed.

“Say you’re mine or I won’t give you any more of my cock.”

“Yes, I’m yours. All of me, Piccolo. I’ll always be yours. Fuck me like I’m yours,” Vegeta rasped, his ab muscles tensing as he rocked his hips in a way that made Piccolo cry out.

Piccolo used his functional hand to clutch Vegeta’s hip and he drove up into his Saiyan mate hard and fast. Vegeta’s head fell back and he cried out with every thrust. His nails bit into Piccolo’s pecs and he looked down with worried eyes when he saw he’d drawn blood.

Piccolo grinned and gasped, “More, sexy, more.”

Vegeta’s eyes held Piccolo’s for a moment before he curled down and bit Piccolo’s pecs. Vegeta raked his nails down Piccolo’s flanks. Piccolo rammed up into Vegeta, feeling the slick heat inside him, finding the angle to hit his prostate.

Vegeta drew more blood and lapped at it as he groaned, “Mmm…I didn’t expect a dancer to be so…feisty.”

“I’m a Namek first,” Piccolo gasped, “And by Namek standards, you’re acting like a shy little virgin.” He gave Vegeta a wicked, fanged smirk.

“Is that a challenge, Piccolo?” Vegeta growled and put some force into his scratching.

Piccolo sat up, slid his fingers into Vegeta’s hair, and pulled his neck open roughly so Piccolo could drag his fangs down the exposed skin. Vegeta’s feral noise of pleasure made Piccolo shiver with his own.

Their lovemaking turned into a primal thing as they nipped and scratched and bit each other. Piccolo turned Vegeta and put him on his knees. He pounded into him and bit his trap to hold him in place. Piccolo thrust savagely into his mate. Vegeta used one hand to reach back and claw at Piccolo’s ass until they both rode the ridge of their climaxes.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes, yes, yes, Piccolo!” Vegeta roared and his cum drenched the bed. Piccolo crumpled over him, his arm around Vegeta’s chest as he bit harder, his seed pouring into Vegeta.

He flopped off Vegeta onto his back after their aftershocks subsided. Vegeta crawled above him. His Saiyan mate licked at his wounds, kissed his blood-stained mouth and growled, “I want to fuck you, Piccolo. I need to fuck you.”

Piccolo threw his legs wide and clasped the back of Vegeta’s skull to pull him in for another kiss. He rasped, “As long as you actually fuck me. No gentle nonsense. Fuck me like you’re claiming me, Vegeta.”

Vegeta surprised Piccolo as he dove between Piccolo’s legs with an animal snarl. The wet searching heat of Vegeta’s tongue pressed up the slit of his _theadur_ and Piccolo cried out, his hips bucking toward Vegeta involuntarily.

“Can I finger you?” Vegeta’s feral voice asked, and for the first time Piccolo heard his accent break through.

Piccolo was still wrecked from fucking Vegeta, but more than anything, he was still nervous about anything involving his _theadur_. Vegeta’s finger earlier and his tongue now were the only real touch it had had since Piccolo was raped. 

Vegeta lunged back up to his mouth. He kissed Piccolo furiously before he pulled back to whisper, “No, no, no. I’m sorry, love. I’m sorry.” Vegeta caressed Piccolo’s face.

Piccolo shook his head. “I’m fine. It’s fine. Yeah. Sure.”

Vegeta shook his head. “No, another time. Not like this.” Vegeta eased himself into Piccolo’s ass and pulled Piccolo out of the past into the blissful present. Vegeta growled against Piccolo’s pecs, gently biting his nipple. Piccolo roughly pulled their mouths together, nipping at Vegeta’s lips, and he snarled, “Don’t go easy on me now, Vegeta—“

Vegeta cut him off, ramming hard and fast into Piccolo, “No, soft and sweet isn’t what you need, is it, _minaiya_?”

Piccolo bit Vegeta’s shoulder, tasting blood, and lapped at it before Vegeta nudged him hard to kiss his bloodied mouth. He rocked back onto his haunches, lifting Piccolo onto his lap, and pistoned up into Piccolo, dragging his teeth along Piccolo’s collarbone. He cupped each of Piccolo’s ass cheeks in his hands, spread him wider, and slammed Piccolo up and down on his prick.

Piccolo growled, “I love that you can fuck me like I need. Take it like I need.”

“Oh, love, when your breaks are healed, we can really go wild, can’t we?”

“Gods, yes, Vegeta. Rougher. Now! Harder! Stop being careful with me and really fuck me!”

Vegeta shifted so Piccolo was back on his back, Vegeta on his knees holding Piccolo’s hips and ass up off the bed, his long legs draped over Vegeta’s shoulders. He crashed into Piccolo so vigorously that the bed frame collapsed as it started to scoot across the floor.

When Vegeta wrapped his hand around Piccolo’s cock, Piccolo swatted it away. “No! You fucking find it, Vegeta, find my fucking spot and hit it!”

A dumbfounded grin spread across Vegeta’s face, the blacks of his eyes dilating. He peppered Piccolo’s belly with fierce little bites and hickeys until Piccolo’s cries changed in tone. Vegeta said something low and fierce in Saiyan and pounded Piccolo so hard that Piccolo’s semen hit the ceiling as he came with an animal roar.

Vegeta turned his head and sank his teeth into Piccolo’s thigh, holding him in place while he finished. Vegeta’s cock trembled in Piccolo’s core and his cum was so voluminous that it squirted out of Piccolo when Vegeta pushed deeper inside Piccolo’s clenching ass as they orgasmed together.

After a growled warning when Piccolo tried to pull off, Vegeta whimpered and closed his eyes as another orgasm wracked his battered, bleeding, beautiful body. Once he removed his teeth from Piccolo’s leg, he cleaned the wound tenderly and lowered Piccolo off of his dick and onto the bed.

Vegeta remained in beast mode as he licked and tended every wound he’d made on Piccolo’s body, Piccolo doing the same for Vegeta. Vegeta’s tail caressed every inch of Piccolo, nearly penetrating him as it slipped aggressively between his ass cheeks, smearing Vegeta’s cum all over, like it was marking Piccolo, claiming him for Vegeta.

Nameks’ and Saiyans’ soft tissue wounds healed quickly relative to humans’, but they could also damage each other more than humans could. Piccolo loved how animal they were, still grooming each other, kissing and touching nonstop.

Piccolo moved to crawl off the bed to get some water, but Vegeta mounted him aggressively and Piccolo had to stifle an almost instantaneous climax. It was less injurious, but still rough and animalistic as they finished quickly, growling and biting as they kissed.

They nipped each other more and Piccolo roughly pinned Vegeta on his belly, assuming Vegeta would use words if he wanted Piccolo to stop. They tussled until Piccolo had Vegeta’s thighs pinned wide. When he drove into Vegeta, the gratified, growling Saiyan whispers eased his fears. Vegeta used his incredible strength to bash back up against Piccolo, lifting him off the bed easily, making it feel incredible as their flesh slapped together, slick with sweat and cum and blood.

Piccolo dismounted once they finished and tenderly took Vegeta in his arms. As he did, he noticed they’d cracked his cast. “Fuck,” he hissed. It felt strange to use words. He pointed so Vegeta could see.

Vegeta examined it. “Fuck,” he said in response, his Saiyan accent so thick it was almost a different word and he continued, “My place fix.” Then shook his head hard and said, still accented, but at least grammatical English, “If we go to my place, I can 3D print you a new cast.”

Piccolo bit Vegeta’s ear, then licked the inside, dipped his tongue deep, fucked Vegeta’s ear with his tongue until Vegeta was writhing and gasping and hard. He purred, “I love that I fucked English right out of you.”

“Fuck, Piccolo, you fucked nearly everything right out of me. That was incredible,” Vegeta paused, gritting his teeth, clearly annoyed that he couldn’t quite shake his accent, “I’ve only ever dreamt of sex like that.”

“And we aren’t even mated yet.”

Vegeta scrutinized Piccolo and whispered, “You are my mate, Piccolo.” He bumped their foreheads together and kissed Piccolo savagely.

“I know. But you know what I mean. You haven’t really claimed me.”

Vegeta smirked and traced his fingertips over the numerous bite marks on Piccolo’s body. “Oh yes I have. Whether there’s trouble because of that filthy fucking rapist or not, you’re my mate. I’ll claim you every time I fuck you if it would make you feel more loved.”

“You’re my mate too, Vegeta. Sorry I had…hangups.”

“There’s a time and a place for fucking like a couple of rabid beasts and there’s a time and a place for making love. I want both with you, Piccolo. I always will.”

“Is your ass okay? That was a hell of a way for me to fuck you for your first time. Sorry I got carried away. When you drew first blood I went a little crazy it was so hot.”

“I’m great, love. That was fucking perfect,” Vegeta said with a sigh and a beaming smile.

Piccolo nuzzled Vegeta and whispered, “I like your little accent when I get you worked up enough.”

“Fuck. I’ve worked so hard to get rid of it. My kin get me drunk to hear it, my Earthborn kin, those fuckers. Now you’ll be getting me drunk and fucking me stupid just to hear it.”

“As long as you’re screaming my name, I don’t care about your accent.”

“Come on, _minaiya_ , let’s pop over to my place and make you a new cast.”

“Are we coming back here?” Piccolo asked.

“I think we should,” Vegeta said, looking a little sad.

Piccolo started to question Vegeta, but stopped and said, “Oh. Yeah. Thanks. That’d be…easier. Sorry.”

Vegeta kissed him viciously and hissed, “Don’t ever apologize for what that filthy fucker did to you.”

“Vegeta…is…was…is he really?”

“Yes. He’ll never hurt you again. Or anyone else.”

Piccolo nodded shallowly and shrugged on a wifebeater. Vegeta held him up while he stepped into a pair of low-slung shorts. Vegeta dressed and carried Piccolo to his scooter, and they left.


	6. Closer

Piccolo was pleasantly sore the next morning when he woke to the sound of Vegeta’s phone. Piccolo wasn't even a little disoriented or scared. It was the best sleep he’d had in ages. The best wake-up in a decade. But despite their exuberant efforts, Piccolo still felt like a crazed animal in heat.

Vegeta tried to get up to get his phone, but Piccolo caught him around the waist kissing him. Vegeta stroked Piccolo but tried to escaped, laughing against Piccolo’s mouth. They wrestled more, Vegeta biting him hard enough to draw blood, then crawling to the bedside table to get his phone. Vegeta waggled his ass in the air, putting everything on display for Piccolo, and cast his most devilish come-hither back at Piccolo.

Piccolo lubed himself and slapped Vegeta’s ass as he spoke to another surgeon about a complicated case. Vegeta smirked over his shoulder and gave a little shrug. Piccolo mounted Vegeta, thrusting into him from behind. Vegeta mimed yawning and raised an eyebrow in challenge to Piccolo.

Piccolo fucked Vegeta as savagely as he could manage with two broken limbs. Vegeta looked positively triumphant as he muted himself and put it on speaker so he could grunt and groan with pleasure while taking the call and taking Piccolo. When the doctor asked a question, Piccolo shouted, “Come for me, Vegeta!” and Vegeta complied with a guttural cry. Vegeta picked up his phone to answer the question, only a little out of breath, with a huge grin on his face. Piccolo slapped Vegeta’s ass hard as he finished deep inside Vegeta. He did Vegeta the courtesy of stifling his own cries while Vegeta spoke by biting Vegeta’s trap again, hearing Vegeta’s breath catch as Piccolo filled him.

Piccolo didn’t pull out until Vegeta hung up and tossed the phone aside. The look in Vegeta’s eyes was so hungry and pleased that Piccolo shivered. Vegeta tackled him and kissed him hard. He growled, “That was very, very naughty, love.”

“Are you going to punish me, sexy?” Piccolo rasped as Vegeta kissed over his chest and swirled his tongue in Piccolo’s navel.

Vegeta’s mouth moved from bruise to bruise, bite to bite, on Piccolo’s body, starting a calmer, sweeter courtship. He ran his hands lightly over Piccolo’s skin, his tail following. He didn’t draw blood when he bit now, it was soft little nips and sucking. He didn't answer Piccolo, but made his loving way down Piccolo’s body.

He bowed his head and his tongue gently traced the scar-like entrance to Piccolo’s _theadur_.

“Vegeta…” Piccolo gasped, clutching at his hair.

“Give yourself to me, love,” Vegeta whispered, his tongue ceasing its lazy journey up and down Piccolo’s slit.

“I’m yours, Vegeta.”

“I want you as my mate. I want to be yours, too,” Vegeta said, and his tongue resumed its gentle lapping.

Tears leaked out of Piccolo and he choked out, “What if…what if he took it from me?”

Vegeta kissed up Piccolo’s belly. He rested his chin on Piccolo’s chest and looked into his eyes. “Do you want to wait?”

“No. I just…what if I’m ruined?” Piccolo turned away, not daring to look in Vegeta’s eyes.

Vegeta tipped Piccolo’s face back and scooted up farther to kiss him. “Am I your mate, right now, in your heart?”

“Yeah, of course.” Piccolo nodded and kissed Vegeta again.

“You want me to claim you? Mate like a Saiyan?”

“Of course, Vegeta. I want that, but—“

“Saiyans don’t have _theadurs_ , so you became my mate when I touched you with my tail, when you accepted it. We haven’t completed our bond, but you’re my mate already, Piccolo. The only question that remains is whether we’ll be mated by both Saiyan and Namek tradition and magic, or only Saiyan, but you are _mine_. My mate. And nothing, _nothing_ , will fucking change that. You’re my _minaiya_ , whether I can put my cock in your _theadur_ or not, whether I can put a baby in you or not. You are fucking _mine._ ” Vegeta's accent was back and by the end he was growling as he held himself above Piccolo, his dark eyes expanding, and he kissed Piccolo fiercely. _“Mine_.”

Piccolo nodded through tears that were some mix of joy at Vegeta’s words, and fear about what would happen. Vegeta kissed the tip of his nose and said, “So do you want to try your _theadur_ or just mate how us poor fuckers with only assholes do it?”

The laughter that burst out of Piccolo relieved the thrumming tension in Piccolo’s body. He took a shaky breath and said, “You won’t be mad if it doesn’t work?”

“No! Fuck no! Of course not, Piccolo. But I’m hopeful that any undeserved claim he might have had on you died with him,” Vegeta said, his dark eyes glittering.

Piccolo felt lighter at Vegeta’s words. “Oh! Yeah, even amongst consensual _atheanna_ , the bond is broken when one mate dies. Yeah. Okay. Those Saiyans had pretty good timing, huh?” Piccolo raised an eyebrow at Vegeta.

“Saiyans tend to do what needs doing quite efficiently,” Vegeta said, the animal flash back in his eyes.

“I love you, Vegeta,” Piccolo murmured, adjusting himself, terrified that the worst might still be true, despite Zarbon’s death. Piccolo had heard horror stories of young Nameks that fucked each other’s _theadurs_ as part of the sexual exploration of youth, not with any intention of becoming _atheanna_ , only to find that they suffered horribly whenever anyone else tried to fuck them. Not only could they not have a true _atheanna_ , but often they couldn’t conceive children because it made the penetrator too sick to persevere. The Elders said it was an adaptation to protect against rape pregnancies, which Piccolo found bitterly amusing.

Vegeta only caressed Piccolo to start, and this was something one could allow many partners to do, if one was so inclined. So it meant nothing that there were no ill effects. Piccolo murmured, “I’m so tense, Vegeta, I just want to know. I’m sorry. Can we just find out?”

“Of course, love,” Vegeta said and curled up over Piccolo. He kissed Piccolo deeply and pushed gently inside Piccolo’s _theadur._

Piccolo gasped for air and burst into tears. Because Piccolo felt only deep throbbing pleasure and a new level of connection to Vegeta. Their eyes met and Piccolo whispered, grinning, “ _Atheanna…_ ”

“Yes, _minaiya_?” Vegeta said, though his eyes roamed over Piccolo’s brightly glowing skin.

“I love you,” Piccolo said, his hips rolling up to meet Vegeta’s.

“And I love you. You feel fucking incredible on my cock, love,” Vegeta groaned.

“And your cock feels incredible in me.”

“Do you want to fully mate? Since you’re laid up anyway? It’s the perfect time to be pregnant.”

“Vegeta,” Piccolo gasped and arched up toward his mate, “We’ve been together two days. Maybe we should get our bearings first?” But Piccolo wanted it. In his heart.

“I want to come inside you, love. I want you to have my child. Please, Piccolo? I’ll take care of it so you can keep dancing…”

“Vegeta…”

“I can feel you want it too, love,” Vegeta murmured, kissing Piccolo deeply.

“I do…I’m just scared.”

“It would be worrisome if you weren’t, love.”

“You’ll never leave me?”

“I’m going to claim you momentarily, and then only death will take me away from you.”

“You’ll be patient with me if I’m a whiny bitch about pregnancy?” Piccolo said, laughing.

“I expect you will be, by all accounts it’s awful,” Vegeta said, his eyes burning into Piccolo.

“You’ll mate like a Namek?”

“You will have to have notarized documents telling me to pull out of your perfect fucking sheath,” Vegeta said and chuckled against Piccolo’s lips as they kissed.

“Fine, you can come inside me,” Piccolo said.

“You can’t even fake a little enthusiasm? Give me a minute and maybe you’ll feel some excitement,” Vegeta whispered.

Piccolo started to speak, but Vegeta drove into him with more gusto as he took authoritative hold of Piccolo’s prick, so all Piccolo managed was a long groan of pleasure.

“There’s a compliant patient, a compliant mate. Look at you, panting for me, arching your back to receive me. You need my cock, don’t you, love?”

“Fuck, Vegeta, stop talking like that, you’re going to make me come too soon!”

“What does that mean? Like your prick is going to spurt all over me if I keep doing this?” Vegeta smirked down at Piccolo and twisted his hand in a thought-fogging way. 

“Vegeta…” was all Piccolo could manage to groan.

“Yes, love?”

Piccolo whimpered and threw his head back as his cum poured over Vegeta’s knuckles, wave after ecstatic wave. The twitching his dick’s orgasm made his _theadur_ ache to come, but Vegeta had slowed and fucked him so gently.

“Sexy, do you want to put a baby in me or is your dick just a tourist?” Piccolo growled.

“Oh, _minaiya_ , you do know how to throw down a challenge,” Vegeta said, his voice rough and feral.

“Well?” Piccolo asked, rising up on his elbows as if they were just chatting about dinner plans.

“You know what you need to say if you want me to _really_ fuck you, love,” Vegeta purred against Piccolo’s ear.

“I’m yours, Vegeta. Fuck me like I’m yours, _atheanna_. Claim me!”

Vegeta growled and his hips rolled more powerfully against Piccolo. He savaged Piccolo’s mouth before he gasped, “Fuck, Piccolo, you’re so hot right now. You feel amazing.” He pressed Piccolo’s thighs up and wide. “I’m going to come so deep inside you and then I’m going to claim you. And you’ll come for me, yes? Your sweet sheath? After torturing me this past week you’ll give me your pleasure? Yes? Say it, Piccolo,” Vegeta growled and nipped at Piccolo’s jaw.

Piccolo groaned, “I’m yours, Vegeta. My pleasure is yours, _atheanna_ , no one else’s. All of me is yours. Come in me, claim me, mark me!”

Vegeta roared and his skin flared with golden light, like someone had flipped on a bright lamp inside him. Vegeta’s seed poured into Piccolo and sent him spiraling into bliss as his _theadur_ contracted and seized and pulled every last drop out of Vegeta. Vegeta roughly flipped Piccolo and bit the thick rope of muscle along his spine.

As Vegeta’s teeth broke Piccolo’s skin, another powerful orgasm ripped through Piccolo’s cock, then his _theadur_ with no pause. He bucked back against Vegeta who growled possessively until Piccolo stilled while Vegeta filled him again and again, all animal once more, his fingers digging into Piccolo’s hip and pec.

Piccolo spread himself wider so Vegeta could reach deeper inside him. Piccolo didn’t understand how Vegeta was still ejaculating, but he didn’t care: it felt incredible. Completely fulfilling, like Piccolo had been waiting his whole life for this moment.

When Vegeta’s teeth finally withdrew from Piccolo’s muscle, Piccolo’s inner animal rose up. He knocked Vegeta off him, lubed himself quickly, and mounted Vegeta from behind, sliding into his gaping, eager entrance.

Vegeta wailed and slammed against Piccolo. Piccolo pounded Vegeta until they were both screaming, then curled down and bit Vegeta’s back muscle, the same spot Vegeta had claimed Piccolo, and held him still while Piccolo’s cock filled Vegeta. Vegeta whimpered and gasped beneath Piccolo, his ass as twitching and hungry as Piccolo’s _theadur_ had been.

Piccolo’s whole body quivered as his last few spurts erupted inside his little mate. He gingerly removed his teeth from Vegeta’s back and licked the wound, cleaning it. Vegeta tackled Piccolo, sucking his mating mark before bowing his head to tenderly clean the exterior of Piccolo’s sheath, driving Piccolo rapidly up into another orgasm.

After a long, loving session of tending to one another like beasts, language returned to Piccolo. His brain took back the helm from his cock. He wrapped himself around Vegeta and kissed all over his back and shoulders until Vegeta craned around to meet Piccolo’s mouth.

“I love you, Vegeta,” Piccolo murmured, though words felt ungainly in his mouth.

Vegeta purred some Saiyan back at him before chuckling. He said, his accent heavy, “I love you too, _minaiya_. My love. My Piccolo.”

Piccolo whispered, “Are you okay? I got pretty rough.”

“I’m fucking amazing. That was phenomenal.”

“I know. I needed that. I’m glad I didn’t hurt you.”

“Thank you for not giving up on me, Piccolo. Sorry I was stubborn.”

“No, I deserved that. I only wish I hadn’t hurt you.”

“All’s well that ends well. I feel perfect. Fucking perfect. Let’s get a little more sleep before I kick your ass today, love. I’m not sorry he woke us up, but I am exhausted.” Vegeta cuddled into Piccolo’s embrace and Vegeta’s body relaxed into sleep. 

Piccolo only stayed awake a few more minutes, but they were minutes filled with fear. Fear that someone would find out what Vegeta had done. That someone would turn him in and take Vegeta away from Piccolo. And Piccolo didn’t know how he would survive without his little mate.

* * *

Vegeta was not kidding about kicking Piccolo’s ass. Vegeta explained that they were fighting not just the atrophy that resulted from a lack of use when the joint was immobilized, but with catastrophic injuries, the brain flooded the area with signals to break down the muscle so that the destroyed joint physically _couldn’t_ move. Overcoming that neuronal atrophy was much harder. Vegeta warned Piccolo that he would be fighting that for a good long while, long after the breaks were healed, especially in his ankle.

It was a flexibility day too. Piccolo was used to spending many hours a day dancing after he’d warmed up and stretched. Which meant he kept those muscles in their most extended and flexed positions for hours. There was no replicating that in his current state, so Vegeta made sure he did considerably more stretching than he ever had when dancing just to keep his healthy joints limber.

The best part about stretching was that Vegeta used the time while Piccolo was in a static stretch to kiss all over Piccolo’s body. Vegeta did only seem to have two modes: completely animalistic fucking, or entirely tender love-making. Piccolo loved them both. It felt like he’d found something that had been missing his whole life.

“Love, I want to be in your sheath constantly,” Vegeta murmured as his kissed along Piccolo’s spine while Piccolo laid his chest flat on the floor while doing a split, lifting his heels off the ground to keep his quads in shape. 

Piccolo kept his arms stretched all the way over his head, his face down, but he said, “I don’t think you could fuck me like this, Vegeta, but you’re welcome to try. Is there a name for that type of stretching? Flexibility and mobility exercises with a cock for added pleasure?” Piccolo chortled.

Vegeta’s hands slid over his flanks onto the floor on either side of Piccolo. He pressed his mouth against Piccolo’s ear as he rose up over him and said, “Love, you keep laying down these challenges like you’ve never met a Saiyan before…”

“Well, I knew you couldn’t manage this time. I like to win occasionally,” Piccolo said, turning his head just enough that Vegeta could kiss the corner of his mouth if he wanted.

But no kiss came. Instead his shorts ripped off in one motion, and Vegeta’s rough, strong hands were under his groin on either side, as if he were going to do a lift with Piccolo. Vegeta growled, “You better flex your back, love, I’m going to pick you up for a minute.”

“Is that not cheating?” Piccolo said, but tightened his back muscles anyway.

“You saucy thing, I’m going to have to fuck that attitude right out of you. You’re being very non-compliant.”

“I’m doing exactly what you told me, sexy,” Piccolo said.

Vegeta lifted him up and Piccolo felt the weight of the boot trying to tip him, so he compensated. Vegeta growled and hissed in Saiyan, but after a moment, Piccolo cried out as Vegeta’s cock filled his _theadur_.

Vegeta eased him back down, his body plastered to Piccolo’s back. Piccolo groaned, but then couldn’t help his giggles. He managed to say, between fits of laughter, “We’re like frogs mating! You know, the ones with the big females and the little males that just clamber on their backs?”

Vegeta chuffed out a laugh and slammed into Piccolo harder. “I suppose we are. I wonder if frogs have this much fun though? What do you think, love? When you’re well are you going to walk around while I hang on your back and fuck you?”

“You have to stop making me laugh!” Piccolo said, unable to stop chortling.

“Shall I fuck you harder then?” Vegeta purred.

Vegeta didn’t wait for an answer. Piccolo barely understood the logistics of it, but Vegeta fucked into him, while palming each of Piccolo’s cheeks, spreading him and tipping him up a little for a better angle. He slapped Piccolo’s ass and growled as he slammed into him harder. Piccolo, out of pure stubbornness, and a desire to be able to lord his compliance over Vegeta, maintained his stretch.

“Sexy, you’re really helping me get those deep hip stabilizers stretched. This is an unusual form of PT though—did you have to practice with your fellow students in school?” Piccolo gasped out, smirking to himself.

Vegeta’s rumbling laugh made Piccolo even harder. Vegeta gave him another resounding slap on the ass and growled, “Come for me, love, come for your fucking physical therapist!”

“Fuck, Vegeta, oh gods, you’re filling me and it feels fucking incredible!” Piccolo groaned and came, his _theadur_ quivering for a long moment before snapping into powerful contractions on Vegeta, who wailed in response. That set Piccolo’s cock off in turn and he bucked back, finally losing his composure enough that he broke out of his stretch to lift his ass up and take more of his little mate inside himself.

Vegeta rode out the final throes of their ecstasy curled over Piccolo. He eased out and whispered, “So fucking noncompliant. I told you to keep in a split,” and nibbled Piccolo’s ear. 

Piccolo could hear the grin in Vegeta’s words. He turned his head enough that Vegeta could kiss his mouth. Vegeta kissed him sweetly, his hands caressing Piccolo now, not scratching or gripping, and Piccolo murmured against his lips, “Fuck, Vegeta, I’d do anything for you. I love you so much."


	7. Disappointment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains slightly more graphic alien biology and also some infertility issues.

Piccolo knew in his heart, before they went to see Dende the next day, that he wasn’t pregnant. Vegeta didn’t though, and Piccolo almost wept to see his Saiyan mate so downcast when Dende gave them the news. Dende assured them that it wasn’t unusual for it to take numerous tries even if Nameks were notoriously fertile, that there was no reason to be discouraged or worried.

Weeks of awful physical therapy and wonderful fucking passed in a blur. Vegeta gave Piccolo no leeway just because they were in love. If anything, Piccolo thought it made Vegeta even more demanding just so they could have angry make-up sex after long days of grueling, irritating work.

Vegeta’s constant hope and excitement that Piccolo would get pregnant filled Piccolo day by day with dread. They went to see Dende every few days, but Piccolo always knew he wasn’t pregnant, he just didn’t have the heart to tell his anxious mate. Every time Dende delivered the same disappointing news, that there was no egg growing in Piccolo’s womb, it was as if he punched Vegeta in the gut.

Dende tried to be encouraging, explaining that Nameks didn’t have heats, but it didn’t mean they were constantly fertile either. He postulated that Piccolo’s broken limbs had put his body into a temporary state of infertility. Once Piccolo was healed up, Dende thought he would get pregnant in no time at all.

But more weeks passed. Piccolo’s wrist came out of its cast. Then his ankle. He eased back into dance with Vegeta’s careful coaching. And again and again, Dende shook his head. Again and again, Vegeta’s whole body crumpled.

Walking home hand-in-hand after one of their appointments on the first fall-feeling day, the late afternoon light golden and sweet, Piccolo almost fell to weeping not for himself, but for his little mate. Vegeta always held himself together. Always tried to be stoic and shrug it off. But Piccolo could see the sadness eating at Vegeta. Piccolo wanted to make his mate happy again.

He nudged Vegeta with his elbow. “Don’t despair yet, sexy.”

Vegeta looked up with the sad peak in his eyebrows that had become a nearly permanent feature as Piccolo’s infertility wore on. “I’m not despairing, love, just…sad. We’ve been trying so long.”

“I know, but my casts haven’t been off very long. My hip still hurts where the fuckwit bruised it. I imagine my body really wants healthy hips if I’m going to lay an egg. It will happen. I hope.”

“I know. You just start up with the new season in a few days and I hoped the pregnancy wouldn’t interfere any more with your career,” Vegeta said, pulling Piccolo’s hand up and kissing his knuckles.

“Vegeta, having a baby is going to interfere with everything.”

“But the pregnancy itself wouldn’t have,” Vegeta offered.

“I’ll be fine,” Piccolo said, not sure, but trying to sound sure.

Ever since Vegeta had moved in with Piccolo days after they began dating, Saiyans had been coming and going constantly like they had moved into Piccolo’s flat. Piccolo didn’t really mind, but it was odd. They were all deferential and polite in their own surly, Saiyan way, and so sneaky sometimes that it unnerved Piccolo. He hadn’t asked Vegeta about it because he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer, but since it hadn’t stopped after so long, Piccolo said, cautiously, “Why have all your Saiyan buddies been in and out of my flat like it’s some kind of Saiyan halfway house?”

Vegeta chuckled. “So suspicious of my kin. They’re guarding us. I’m more vulnerable and less vigilant when I’m in rut, so they look out for us. Keep us safe.”

“Good gods, Vegeta, you can’t say shit like that when we’re out and about,” Piccolo said, his belly filling with heat.

“Why?” Vegeta asked crossly, kissing Piccolo’s knuckles again.

Piccolo smirked down at Vegeta and jutted his chin toward his crotch where he was visibly half-hard. “Because it makes me have thoughts unsuitable for a public thoroughfare.”

Vegeta gave Piccolo a delicious smirk. “But I like making you hard, love. Plenty of alleyways…”

Piccolo laughed. “Can you wait until we get home?”

“If you insist. Are my kin bothering you?”

“No. They’re like wraiths, terrifying, but hard to pin down. So sometimes they startle me, but they don’t bother me,” Piccolo said.

“Good.”

“You think my ankle will hold up okay? That I’m actually ready to practice?”

“We’ll have to keep working, of course, but I think so. I’m going to keep a close eye, if there’s any sign of weakness or trouble, I told Krillin he’d have to go back to Goku for the season, that it doesn’t mean you’re permanently down, just that it’s not worth rushing. And I’ll be spotting for you. Or Goku. But not that fucker, Yamcha, especially not while we’re trying to get pregnant,” Vegeta grumbled.

“Something we both agree on. But at least he brought us back together,” Piccolo said and bent to kiss Vegeta. Vegeta stopped walking and took it from a peck to a real kiss until Piccolo eased away and whispered, “Now you’re just being cruel.”

“We’re almost home,” Vegeta said with a smirk and surreptitious grope.

* * *

Piccolo’s ankle held and he danced through the fall season and the winter season and the spring season and still he was not pregnant. They’d long since given up going to Dende, finding it too painful.

Vegeta made a good show of not caring, as he thought caring would hurt Piccolo. But it only made Piccolo feel completely alone in his grief. One day, without mentioning it to Vegeta, who had gone back to doing surgery once Piccolo was recovered, Piccolo took the afternoon off and went to see Dende on his own.

“Dende, can you…I don’t know…see if there’s something obviously wrong with my _theadur_. I’m all healed up. We’ve been trying constantly for over a year. There must be something wrong with me,” Piccolo said, barely maintaining his composure.

Dende’s brows furrowed as he said, “Well, there is one thing I’ve wondered about that might have resulted from when you were assaulted as a young man. I hesitated to bring it up in front of your _atheanna—_ ”

“He knows. I told him. I think my barrenness is even harder on him since that one terrible night resulted in me getting pregnant, but all the love Vegeta and I have shared hasn’t.”

“I imagine knowing you were hurt, especially like that, is very upsetting for Vegeta, much more so than your trouble getting pregnant. Vegeta values keeping you safe and happy. I believe half his misery is that he can’t ease this suffering for you. But come, let me check. If what I fear is the case, I can fix it, at least, but it will be painful. I’m so sorry,” Dende said, his frown deepening.

Piccolo shrank a little. “Can I call Vegeta to come be with me?”

“Of course. Gown up and ring the call bell once he arrives. I have a few other patients to attend to while we wait for him.”

Piccolo called Vegeta. They rarely called one another so Piccolo wasn’t surprised when Vegeta immediately asked, “Love? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, but, um, can you come to Dende’s?”

“Of course! Are…are you pregnant?”

The hope in Vegeta’s voice made Piccolo’s heart ache. “No, sorry, sexy. I didn’t mean to get your hopes up. But he did think of something to check that might have happened when…well…you know. He said if it’s that, he can fix it, but it’s pretty painful. So it’d be nice if you were here…Please?”

“I’m already on my way, love. I’ll be there in ten.”

Piccolo got ready. Dende gave him a pamphlet and Piccolo read more on his phone about trauma or excessive pregnancies causing a calcium deposit on the tiny organ in the _theadur_ that sensed semen. Without sensing semen, the _theadur_ never let an egg down, so it couldn’t be fertilized. Piccolo found a lot of anecdotes about the condition being caused by rape and the procedure resolving the issue. But Piccolo didn’t dare to really hope, his heart was too bruised and torn from so much disappointment.

By the time Vegeta arrived, Piccolo started to shake. The memory of his ankle and wrist surgeries was visceral. He had good pain tolerance—he never would have made it as a dancer otherwise—but he was terrified it wouldn’t work and his suffering would be for nothing.

Vegeta held him and kissed him and rubbed his back until Dende returned. Dende walked Piccolo through the procedure before he performed it. Painful was an understatement. Piccolo could feel Vegeta bending all his stubborn will to not losing it at seeing Piccolo suffer.

Dende dripped sweat by the time he finished. He said, “I believe that may have been your problem, Piccolo, though I don’t want to get your hopes up too much. The deposit was very large and thick—the type I see from physical trauma. Give yourself a couple days of abstinence to heal, then you’re free to try as zealously as you like.”

Piccolo felt soupy with agony, like he might drain away at any moment, so he only nodded. Vegeta got all the follow-up instructions. Once Dende left them, he wrapped Piccolo in his arms, and Piccolo cried and cried.

Vegeta took him home and put him in bed. He made them dinner and read to Piccolo until he dozed off.

When they woke the next morning, Vegeta called them both in sick. He fawned over Piccolo all day, which normally would’ve driven Piccolo crazy, but he felt as fragile as a baby bird, so it was comforting.

By the weekend, Piccolo felt physically fine, but a deep foreboding filled him. Vegeta curled into Piccolo’s armpit the night before they could begin trying again. Piccolo whispered, “Is…is it okay if it still doesn’t take?”

Vegeta scooted upright and bent to kiss Piccolo. His eyes searched Piccolo’s as he said, “Of course. What a silly question. You’re all I need, Piccolo. I just hate seeing you so sad.”

“Aren’t you sad too?” Piccolo asked and searched Vegeta’s eyes.

“Of course, _minaiya_ , but I want to be strong for you,” Vegeta said, caressing Piccolo’s cheek.

“I wish you’d be sad with me sometimes so I didn’t feel like such a baby about it,” Piccolo said.

Vegeta canted his head before he curled back into Piccolo’s arms. “I’m very sad, Piccolo. Maybe the procedure will change things,” Vegeta whispered, and Piccolo felt the hot splash of a tear on his chest. He let himself go and sobbed. Vegeta did too and it felt cathartic to let out their misery and grief and disappointment together.


	8. Fear and Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: there is an unfortunate, plot relevant, slightly more graphic reference to Piccolo's rape by Zarbon in this chapter.
> 
> I've gone down a bit of Tolkien-esque philological rabbit hole and now that I have a bit of Saiyan language in a couple of my other fics, it's creeping into this one. Feel free to comment if it's annoying and I'll go back to simply italicizing things that are "in Saiyan" instead of straight up cobbling together a language in my head. *facepalms* my headcanons are evolving into full-blown societies, lol. Thanks for reading :D

Piccolo woke alone the next morning, but heard Vegeta bustling around in the kitchen. Vegeta came in with tea and breakfast on a tray. Piccolo pushed up to sitting as Vegeta set the tray on the empty side of the bed.

He kissed Piccolo and whispered, “What if we drive down the coast and get a little beachfront cottage for a few days? Have a holiday?”

Before Piccolo could answer, a loud knock came at the front door, startling them both. Vegeta’s kin never knocked, they slipped in and out like they owned the place, causing Piccolo to wonder how many copies of his flat’s keys existed in the world. Not that many Saiyans got pick-pocketed or robbed.

Vegeta pulled on a pair of jeans and went to answer the door. Piccolo, for the first time, was uneasy that none of Vegeta’s kin were there at the moment. There was almost always at least one skulking around, but usually two or three. Piccolo’s face crumpled as he realized maybe they weren’t guarding anymore because Vegeta’s rut had lasted too long due to Piccolo’s failure to get pregnant.

Vegeta sounded increasingly agitated, so Piccolo pulled on a wife-beater and sweats as he walked out to see what was going on. Piccolo’s heart stopped in his chest. It was two detectives that gave Piccolo a disdainful look. The police were notoriously anti-Namek. Anti-Saiyan. But Piccolo managed to keep a straight face. Times like these he appreciated being seven feet tall. He loomed over both humans.

“Well, there he is, he doesn’t look too indisposed to me,” the fatter of the two human detectives said, smugly glancing at his partner.

“Can I help you?” Piccolo said, willing his heart to stop thumping so loudly.

“We’re investigating the death of a Xandrite that got murdered last year, Mr. Zarbon. We came across some new evidence when someone discovered his safe-deposit box. Evidence that suggests you knew Mr. Zarbon pretty well. Or at least he knew you,” the cop said with a little snort of laughter.

Piccolo’s body tried to tremble, but he held it still. Calm. He said, “We danced together for a few years. So yeah. I knew him. But I haven’t seen him in years. I didn’t know he got killed. Poor guy,” Piccolo said coolly. Vegeta’s hand slid onto his lower back, underneath his tank, and onto his bare skin.

“You familiar with how he was killed?”

“No, I’m afraid not, like I said, I didn’t even know he’d died.”

They pulled out a picture of Zarbon’s dangling, flayed corpse.

Piccolo raised his eyebrows and said, “Looks like the Saiyans thought he was a rapist.”

The detectives nodded and handed Piccolo a manila folder. Piccolo felt a certain grim pride that he didn’t throw up. The folder was filled with pictures of him, Piccolo, his ass a bloody mess, his _theadur_ with Zarbon’s revolting prick inside it. Even Piccolo’s mouth being violated. Piccolo’s eyes were bleary in the photos, clearly drugged, clearly not an active or willing participant.

He closed the folder quickly because he could feel Vegeta’s wrath soaring to unmanageable heights. Piccolo said, “He roofied me. Raped me. I haven’t seen him since he left Frieza’s dance company when I became primo. It was disgusting water under the bridge. A very long time ago.”

The detectives glanced at each other with sly smiles. “Interesting that you started dating a Saiyan around the time he was murdered. You Nameks can’t fuck proper after something like that, right? Or at least not in your weird pussies. Unless maybe the other party was dead?”

Piccolo swallowed hard, clasped Vegeta against his side to stop Vegeta from taking their bait. Piccolo said, “Vegeta and I met in a bar filled with Saiyans. I was so drunk who knows what I said and who knows how many Saiyans heard. Word travels fast amongst Saiyans even if no one at the bar was a vigilante, I’m sure they heard about it.”

The detective looked disappointed that Piccolo hadn’t argued about his crass description of Nameks. He said, “The mayor is tired of these spectacles. He’s putting new manpower and resources into catching whoever did this.”

“Too bad he doesn’t put some effort into catching rapists so this shit wouldn’t be necessary,” Piccolo bit out, unable to help himself.

“So you think Zarbon’s murder was necessary?”

“I hadn’t thought of Zarbon in years. I don’t know if I drunkenly told a Saiyan. But I didn’t do this. Vegeta didn’t do this. So I don’t know why you’re here except to dredge up a pretty shitty time in my life with photos that never should have been taken, and should be destroyed.”

“Where were you the night it happened?” the fat one asked.

“I don’t know, what night did it happen?” They told Piccolo and he smirked. “That’s our anniversary, so we would have been here, fucking like crazy,” he said, turning to grin at Vegeta.

Vegeta said amiably, “I did go let Broly down that night, but I was with you or him for all but about half an hour when I was traveling between places, which doesn’t look like it would’ve been enough time for what happened to that disgusting rapist.”

“Give us this Broly’s address, we’ll be talking to him too. Zarbon seemed to have a bit of a taste for Nameks,” the slimmer of the two said, still trying to goad Piccolo. Or Vegeta, if he was as stupid as he looked.

Piccolo turned away in disgust. He said, “I can’t say I care whether you find his killer or not, but you can get out of my flat.”

“Not very cooperative, Mr. Piccolo,” the fat one said with a little sneer.

“Hard to feel cooperative when you clearly delight in a rapist preying on a species that already gets preyed on in this society. I don’t have any more information than you knew when you came here to fucking taunt me with photos of a really traumatic event in my life. So yeah, you’re right, I’m not feeling cooperative.”

They left and Vegeta’s body shook with rage. He kissed Piccolo and held him. “You alright, love?”

“That was really upsetting,” Piccolo said in a small voice.

“I’m sorry you had to see those—”

“Not that. I mean, yes, that too, but more that the cops are sniffing around at all. Fucking pervert and his damned trophies.”

“It’s a shame they weren’t in his place, since I heard it got torched to prevent exactly this type of nonsense,” Vegeta said drily.

“Gods, I feel even grosser knowing he had those,” Piccolo said, a wave of nausea washing over him.

“Understandable. It’s fucking disgusting. I feel even more like we need a holiday now,” Vegeta said, looking up at Piccolo.

“No, we can’t. It will look suspicious to those fuckers.”

“Damnit. I hadn’t thought of that. Fuck,” Vegeta grumbled, but he slid his hands up under Piccolo’s tank top, gripped his pecs, and bent to drag his tongue up the cleft of Piccolo’s ab muscles. “Whatever will we do if we stay home?”

Piccolo lifted Vegeta up onto his hips. “I think I have some ideas, sexy. Gods, I still love being able to carry you after so long not getting to do it.”

Vegeta grumped, “I don’t, you never let me carry _you_ anymore. You’re just size-ist and think since you’re bigger you should get to do all the carrying.”

Piccolo laid Vegeta out on the bed and stripped his jeans off. He licked up Vegeta’s rapidly hardening shaft. “It would depend on what piece of anatomy we were using as our metric for who’s bigger…” 

“Love, I’ve frotted with you enough to know your cock is bigger than mine too, even if nature spared me a proportionally small prick and gave me this instead.” He gestured to his cock.

“I love your dick, sexy. It’s the perfect size.”

“It loves you back,” Vegeta breathed, his hips rolling up to meet Piccolo’s mouth. “Gods, Piccolo, I thought two days without you would be no big deal, but I almost had a wet dream last night I was so hard just from cuddling you.” Vegeta curled up and took Piccolo’s face in his hands. He kissed Piccolo softly at first, then more aggressively, shoving Piccolo’s pants down, and peeling off his tank.

“What are you going to do if I _do_ get pregnant? Two weeks after labor you have to keep your hands off me.”

“I know, love, just the thought makes my balls ache. But I’d endure anything to have a family with you,” Vegeta purred and rolled Piccolo onto his back.

Piccolo’s body arched up toward Vegeta’s hard-on, seeking what it craved. They’d hardly done anything but fuck Piccolo’s _theadur_ because the need was so powerful, the hope so consuming.

“Vegeta, I can’t wait. I need you. Now.”

Vegeta pressed inside him, stroking Piccolo’s cock. “Relax, love, let me love you. Let me fuck you just right,” he breathed against Piccolo’s lips. 

Piccolo growled and bucked hard up toward Vegeta. “I want it wild. I want it like only you can give it to me. I want to mate, not make love,” Piccolo rasped.

Vegeta gave him a feral smirk and flipped Piccolo over, pulled his hips up, and mounted him. He bit Piccolo’s mating mark hard and pounded into Piccolo. His hand on Piccolo’s cock was merciless as he stroked Piccolo in time with his thrusts. He growled in Saiyan, and it was one of the phrases Piccolo knew from extensive experience with how Vegeta liked to fuck: “ _Metul ne qi, lot qt entrul onka kurusen_.” _Come for me, so we can really rage._

Vegeta had developed a taste for making Piccolo come as fast as possible and then dragging out any subsequent orgasms as long as he saw fit. Piccolo was unable to deny Vegeta anything, so whenever he growled this command in Saiyan, Piccolo’s body responded.

“Vegeta,” Piccolo groaned and added in his stiff, accented Saiyan, “ _Metul uvlen qi. Metul qtept qi_.” _Come inside me. Come with me._ Piccolo knew it drove Vegeta wild whenever he said anything in Saiyan, even if Piccolo butchered it.

“ _Ghisam oon gheul qi loran oon tol kavnit lemkvitala oon, vku-tseeka?_ ” _Do you want me to fill you and keep fucking you, my mate_? Vegeta asked. Piccolo understood most of Vegeta’s Saiyan, in bed, at least.

“Yes, fill me, _vku-tseeka_ , my only. Fill me again and again,” Piccolo said.

Vegeta growled as he thrust into Piccolo hard, holding him still with his teeth in Piccolo’s back while he came deep inside Piccolo’s sheath.

Hope bloomed in Piccolo as Vegeta came because it felt _very_ different to have Vegeta’s seed inside him now. It felt _good._ Really good. Make his _theadur_ climax again good.

Piccolo cried out and fought Vegeta’s hold on him to bash back onto his mate’s cock. When Vegeta felt the clamping grip of Piccolo’s sheath, he fucked Piccolo savagely, growling his pleasure and praise in Saiyan, nipping and scratching and stroking him.

“Gods, Piccolo, your sheath is perfect. You feel incredible.”

“Fuck, Vegeta, fuck me like the first time. Fuck me rough. Mate with me.”

Vegeta purred, “Can I fuck you all day, love? I never want to pull out of you.”

“My body is thirsty for your cum, Vegeta,” Piccolo gasped, “Give it what it needs.”

“So demanding today, my fiery mate.”

“Give it to me, Vegeta, don’t hold back. I need it. I need it now! _Metul uvlen qi_!” _Come inside me!_ Piccolo speaking Saiyan always excited Vegeta and Piccolo would use any means necessary to get more of the bliss that Vegeta’s cum in his sheath brought him. Vegeta went wild, pounded Piccolo harder until he froze, deep inside Piccolo, bit him hard to hold him in place, his tail tight around Piccolo’s waist, and pulsed inside Piccolo’s sheath.

Piccolo bellowed with pleasure. He was certain it was different now. Something inside him shuddered and trembled, like an orgasm within his orgasm. He gasped for breath and pleaded for more in Saiyan and English.

Vegeta’s tail curled around Piccolo entirely and pushed inside Piccolo’s ass, driving Piccolo somehow higher into a full body climax like nothing he’d ever experienced. They had done this before—Vegeta’s tail eagerly sought any available orifice—but this morning, Piccolo felt like the double penetration was driving Vegeta’s cum even deeper inside Piccolo, pushing it where it needed to be.

Piccolo arched his back and relaxed his ass so Vegeta’s tail could plunge deeper inside him. He reached back to claw at Vegeta’s ass and pull him deeper. He hungered for more, but he didn’t even know what “more” would look like.

Vegeta rolled him, pinned him on his back, and kissed him roughly. He drove into Piccolo relentlessly, clawing at Piccolo’s legs and purring praise in Saiyan. He gasped, in heavily accented English, “You’re _vkai_. Mine, Piccolo.”

“I’m yours. More, Vegeta, I need more,” Piccolo breathed.

Vegeta smirked down at him and lifted Piccolo’s hips as he rose up onto his knees, slamming into Piccolo. As Piccolo’s climax approached, he felt Vegeta shuddering with the effort of withholding.

“Come for me, _minaiya_ , let your sweet sheath suck my seed out of my prick.”

Piccolo threw his legs over Vegeta’s shoulders. Piccolo’s body thrummed with tension before releasing in a wild spasming torrent of pleasure. Vegeta bit his thigh and held him firmly in place as he came. Semen dripped out of Piccolo because Vegeta had come so voluminously and so many times.

Vegeta lowered Piccolo back onto the bed, but stayed inside him. He snuggled on top of Piccolo, still shivering with aftershocks. Vegeta whispered in Saiyan as he caressed Piccolo’s flanks, leaning to lick some of the wounds he’d made, though they were shallow enough they were already healing.

“What are you whispering about now, sexy?” Piccolo asked, always curious what was on Vegeta’s mind after they coupled so furiously.

“Mmm…just how lucky I am that that idiot broke you. That Bulma brought you to me. That you didn’t let my foolish pride deter you.”

“Is that really what you were saying?” Piccolo said, doubtful.

Vegeta chuckled and said, “No. I said you made me come so much my balls hurt. But I always think the other. I love you, Piccolo.”

“ _Vk karam oon_ , Vegeta,” Piccolo curled up, whispering his love in Saiyan, and kissed Vegeta.

A big, dopey grin spread on Vegeta’s face as he said, “Love, if you’re ever fluent in Saiyan, I’ll be completely at your mercy.”

“Only if I’m fluent in Saiyan?”

“Fair point, my only. Who’s been teaching you all this dirty talk in Saiyan anyway? Do I need to be worried?” Vegeta asked with a little smirk.

“You are, you ridiculous Saiyan. You’re always grumbling and muttering at me in Saiyan, getting frustrated that I don’t do what you want, and then translating in exasperation,” Piccolo said and chuckled.

“You make me sound moody. Surly, almost,” Vegeta said and tugging Piccolo into another kiss so he didn’t have to pull out.

Piccolo whispered, their mouths still close together, “Don’t get too excited, but it felt…different.”

Vegeta’s eyebrows shot up, though he tried to contain his smile. “It felt different for me too, love, like your sheath wanted more. Like it was…thirsty.”

“Yes, me too!” Piccolo said, and there was no stopping the hope that blossomed in his heart.

* * *

They spent the weekend fucking in every imaginable configuration, not just in Piccolo’s sheath. They mated as fiercely as the first time, though this time even when Vegeta was feral it was oddly tender and gentle at times. He was unable to sleep all weekend because he felt compelled to “guard” Piccolo, though from what, he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, say. The Saiyans wraiths had returned as well.

By Monday morning, Vegeta had transformed so completely into a wild animal that Piccolo expected him to drag a carcass of some prey through the balcony to feed Piccolo. Piccolo loved it. Loved being so uninhibited together.

In the shower before they were headed to Dende’s, Vegeta’s hands were everywhere on Piccolo’s body, as if he were the doctor. Piccolo remember with a little jolt, that Vegeta _was_ a doctor. Piccolo said, “I’m fine, Vegeta.”

“Gods, yes, you are, love,” Vegeta growled, his mouth trailing after his hands, his tail trailing after his mouth.

“I mean you can stop fretting.”

Vegeta flared a nostril at him, standing up from his oral tour. “No, I can’t. Love, I’m so nervous.”

“We’ll know soon. And we’ll be okay, even if…if it didn’t work?”

“Of course, love. But I’ll still be sad for myself. For you. Angry about what that fucker took from us.”

“Yeah. Fuck. I wish our appointment was earlier,” Piccolo said.

“At least we took today off.”

“Yeah, but you’ll be swamped tomorrow, sexy.”

“That’ll be good. Either way I’ll need serious distraction. When does your next round of performances start?”

“Our outdoor series starts in a month and a half.”

“Fuck, sorry, love, that’s a tight timeline.”

“If I get to have your baby, I don’t care at all,” Piccolo said, stealing another kiss as they left their flat.

They went out for breakfast to kill time until their appointment, then loitered in a coffee shop drinking tea and reading together until it was time to go to Dende’s. Piccolo trembled uncontrollably. Vegeta wrapped an arm around his waist and held him while they waited after Piccolo had gowned up.

Dende returned and Piccolo tried to breathe evenly as he laid back for the exam, but he felt like he was drowning. Vegeta’s lips pressed against his temple and he whispered, “We have each other, no matter what.”

Piccolo closed his eyes and tried to kill the hope in his heart. He opened them as Dende covered Piccolo back up. 

Dende beamed. A huge smile on his face. “It seems the calcium deposit was the issue. Congratulations, my friend, you are pregnant.”

Piccolo’s eyes swung to Vegeta, who looked smug. Piccolo nudged him and he bent to kiss Piccolo. As he pulled away, he whispered, “And baby makes three.”


	9. Undue Care

Piccolo and Vegeta’s celebratory mood was immediately dampened when the detectives came by again that afternoon, interrogating Vegeta at length. Vegeta remained cool, unfazed, and calm as they tried to get him to admit something. To find some hole in his story.

“Practically everyone I know is Saiyan, but I don’t pry into their private lives. For all I know, my boyfriends have all been rapist-murdering vigilantes, but it’s not my business,” Vegeta said with a shrug.

“What about this Broly fellow you saw that evening?”

Vegeta guffawed. “Many of my kin I would not be surprised to find out they murdered a rapist, but Broly? No. Broly is not in your so-called ‘Saiyan Justice.’ That man gets queasy if you remove a sliver in front of him. He would never survive a flaying.”

“So you know Zarbon was flayed?” the small detective said eagerly, as though he had caught Vegeta.

“You told me you knew a Saiyan did it. Saiyans flay rapists. My kin aren’t subtle, but they are consistent. Many of my kin could participate in a flaying, but not Broly,” Vegeta said, barely suppressing another bout of laughter.

“And what about you, Mr. Vegeta? Could you flay someone?”

“I’ve never tried, but I’m sure I could, I’m a surgeon, after all. But I wouldn’t. I know where every big bundle of nerves in the body is, so if it had been me, I would have burned him. Slowly. So much more satisfying, so much more suffering. Flaying would be a quick death, relatively speaking, of course,” Vegeta said.

“So you’re saying you thought about killing him?” 

Vegeta snorted and said, “Of course. He raped my mate. It’s disturbing that you lot are more worried about a serial rapist’s murder than any of his rapes.”

“But you have motive,” the small one said.

“I have _motive_ to kill almost anyone. Humans are infuriating. Now unless you’re arresting me based on some actual evidence, get out of my fucking flat,” Vegeta said, swinging open the door.

They left with promises to return with a warrant. Vegeta turned his attention back to Piccolo. Piccolo was nauseous he was so scared. “I don’t want to lose you, Vegeta.”

Vegeta looked completely baffled. “Why would you lose me?”

“What if they arrest you?”

Vegeta shrugged. “They have nothing or they wouldn’t be so desperate for me to talk. I’m guilty of nothing more than despising the police.”

Piccolo searched Vegeta’s eyes. Piccolo was sure Vegeta had murdered Zarbon, but maybe he’d only told the members of Saiyan Justice to do it? Vegeta garnered much respect amongst his kin. The Saiyans Piccolo had encountered all bent over backwards to do as Vegeta wished. Yet Piccolo couldn’t imagine that Vegeta would outsource this particular job.

The door swung open moments later and Vegeta grinned as Broly came in. Broly kissed his cheek and Piccolo’s too, which still startled Piccolo, even after so long. Broly was a walking contradiction: enormous and terrifying but sweet and romantic, easily wounded emotionally even though there probably wasn’t a soul on Earth that could hurt him physically.

“Hey ‘Geta, the cops keep pestering me about some Xandrite cunt that got flayed. You?”

“Of course, they naturally assume that I murdered my _minaiya’s_ rapist.”

Piccolo shriveled. It humiliated him to even admit his assault to Vegeta, but to have Vegeta speak so casually to someone else about it made Piccolo physically ill.

“ _Minaiya_?” Vegeta said, his arm wrapping around Piccolo’s waist, “Are you alright?”

Piccolo stammered, “I…uh…yeah, um…I’m gonna go lie down.”

Broly looked Piccolo over and smiled broadly as he said, “Piccolo, did ‘Geta finally fucking knock you up?”

Broly looked so delighted that Piccolo felt a little better. Vegeta spoke before Piccolo could, a big smug smirk on his face, “I did! He’s pregnant, so he needs to rest. He doesn’t need to deal with stupid, incompetent detectives.”

Broly hugged Piccolo kissing both his cheeks. “Hey, can I be Uncle Broly? ‘Geta, I’ll stay on the couch, yeah? Help you guard through labor? You need to rest up to be a big proud papa. Well, maybe not so _big_ ,” Broly said swatting Vegeta’s shoulder.

“Oh, fuck off, you giant galoot,” Vegeta said, smacking Broly back. Vegeta turned to Piccolo and said, “It’s up to you, love,” kissing his knuckles.

Piccolo found Saiyans completely incomprehensible sometimes. “What do I need guarding from?”

Both Saiyans looked perplexed. “That’s the whole point of guarding. You never know what threats will arise,” Broly said, as if Piccolo’s question was completely ridiculous. Then he added with an eyebrow wiggle, “Plus then ‘Geta can mate like a Namek, yeah?”

Piccolo, absurdly, blushed. “Yeah, I hope so.”

“Of course I’ll mate like a Namek!” Vegeta cried indignantly.

“Sexy, don’t get all grumpy. I’m tired, okay?”

Vegeta scooped him up in a bridal carry. “Of course you are, you’re growing a Saiyan.” He tucked Piccolo in bed and fussed over him until Piccolo told him to stop. He bumped his head against Piccolo’s and whispered, “I’m so excited, love.”

Piccolo felt…full…so he said, “I’ll be more excited once I survive gestation and labor.”

“You’ll do great. I know you will.”

“Thanks, sexy. Don’t talk to the cops anymore, okay?”

“Anything for you, love,” Vegeta said and kissed Piccolo.

* * *

Piccolo, for all his excitement to have a child, found pregnancy unbearable. Vegeta wouldn’t let him practice even the first two days when his belly was manageable. So in addition to Piccolo’s own body driving him crazy, Vegeta was driving him crazy too. It didn’t exactly surprise Piccolo that Vegeta worried and hovered needlessly, but by the third day, Piccolo drew the line.

“Vegeta, stop it. You can put your dick in me, like a proper Namek mate, or you can let me rest in peace like a human, but if this constant doting and pampering is the way Saiyans mate, I can’t handle it. I’m fine. I’m uncomfortable. No amount of pillows or massages is going to change that. So either get my book and leave, or fuck me, but nothing in between.”

Vegeta stripped and climbed above Piccolo. He kissed up Piccolo’s already very distended belly. “You make it sound like I’m annoying you, love…” Vegeta said with a smirk.

“You _are_ annoying me, sexy.”

“However will I make it up to you?” Vegeta said and his mouth moved back down Piccolo’s belly and took Piccolo’s head in his mouth, swirled his tongue around it.

“Vegeta…” Piccolo gasped, and arched his back, wanting more.

Vegeta hummed and took the rest of Piccolo’s cock in his mouth, deep-throating Piccolo and making him groan. He sucked Piccolo hard until Piccolo was writhing and begging, so close.

Vegeta suddenly pulled off, gave Piccolo a soft kiss, and started dressing.

“What are you doing?” Piccolo croaked, so on edge that he probably could have come from imagination alone.

“I don’t want to fuss over you,” Vegeta said with a wicked little smirk.

Piccolo’s tears surprised even himself as he started to sob. Vegeta’s face collapsed into a horrified frown and hopped back on the bed. “Oh, love, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Piccolo’s hard-on died and he curled into a ball around his aching belly.

“I’m sorry, my mate, my sweet Piccolo, don’t cry. I’m sorry.”

Piccolo cried and sniffled and said, “It’s hard enough being pregnant without you being mean.”

“I was just trying to tease you a little. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Forgive me, love, my only.”

Piccolo’s throat was still thick with tears as he asked, “Why don’t you want to fuck me? Am I too gross?”

“What?!” Vegeta screeched, “Of course not! I love how fertile you look. I could never think you look gross, Piccolo. I only teased because you don’t want me to dote on you.”

“You haven’t fucked me even once since we found out. And you’re supposed to, that’s how Nameks mate, Vegeta! You said you would!”

Vegeta took his clothes back off and wrapped himself around Piccolo, reaching to touch Piccolo’s prick. “Let me bring you off, love, please, I’m sorry. Then I’ll fuck you until you lay our egg.”

“No. You obviously don’t want to and I don’t want a pity-fucking.”

“Piccolo, gods, I’m never going to _pity_ fuck you. I love fucking you. I’ve…I’ve been nervous I’ll make you miscarry. Since we tried so long…I…I’ve been scared to lose it.”

“That’s not how it works, Vegeta.”

“I can’t help my fear, even if it’s irrational,” Vegeta said, kissing down Piccolo’s spine.

“I know,” Piccolo said, relenting and calming, “I know. I’m sorry. I’m a mess.”

“No, don’t be sorry, love,” Vegeta whispered, kissed Piccolo’s shoulder and tried again to touch Piccolo’s cock.

“Don’t. I don’t feel like it now.”

Vegeta slid his hand back onto Piccolo’s hip. “Okay, can I hold you, at least? If I’m not annoying?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Piccolo said, his eyelids heavy he was so tired.

“Please don’t be mad at me, love.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. I can feel it.”

“Vegeta,” Piccolo said, and rolled into his mates arms, putting their faces together. He kissed Vegeta. It was soft at first, but it turned hungry as Vegeta’s body responded to him. Their cocks brushed against each other and Piccolo gasped, “I’m not mad, sexy. I’m not. I love you. I just don’t feel good.”

“Let me make you feel good, at least for a little, please, my mate? You promised that you’d give me your pleasure. And you didn’t say that you wouldn’t just because I piss you off occasionally.”

Piccolo laughed and kissed his mate more. “No more teasing?”

“Definitely not. I’m sorry, Piccolo.”

“I want to fuck you, Vegeta, before I’m too fat to manage.”

“Gods, yes, like this?” Vegeta put his top leg over Piccolo’s hip.

“No,” Piccolo growled and pushed Vegeta onto his back, shoving his legs up and wide. “I said I want to _fuck_ you, not make love.”

“Dende said nothing too rough,” Vegeta protested.

“Then you better hold still and take what I give you,” Piccolo purred, lubing himself. He thrust his slippery fingers inside Vegeta’s opening and found his prostate. He tapped until Vegeta was gasping and pleading. “Be a good mate and don’t tease me with your sweet ass. Can I fuck you, sexy? Are you hungry for my cock?” Piccolo pulled his fingers out.

Vegeta whimpered and lifted his hips. “I need you, Piccolo. Please. Fuck me hard. Hit my spot so hard.”

Piccolo groaned as he slowly slid inside the tight, gripping heat of his mate. He thought his pregnancy would make him hunger only to be fucked, but part of his aching longing was to be so deep inside Vegeta like this, like they were one body.

Vegeta shivered on him, trembling he was so close to coming. Piccolo held Vegeta’s hips tightly so he couldn’t move, couldn’t achieve his own relief. His eyes met Piccolo’s and Piccolo loved the need he saw there, the pleading hunger. Vegeta begged, “Please, Piccolo, I’m sorry I teased you. Please…please make me come…”

“Do you want me to hit your spot? To push you over the edge inside?” Piccolo took Vegeta’s cum-heavy dick in his hand. “Or do you want me to stroke you off nice and slow while I ease in and out of you?” Piccolo pulled his cock almost entirely out of Vegeta, who whined and squirmed.

Vegeta’s eyes implored Piccolo as he gasped, “I want both. I want you to drag this one out of me and then fuck me so viciously I come again. Please, _minaiya_ , please!”

Piccolo eased back inside Vegeta, brushing his p-spot, bending to suck his nipples as Vegeta mewled and tried not to grab Piccolo’s hips. “Vegeta, your ass feels fucking divine. I love how you’re gripping me. I can feel how close you are.”

“Piccolo…” Vegeta gasped, still quivering. He held the back of his knees. “I…oh gods…I’ve never been this close without release.”

Piccolo drew back as slowly as possible, making Vegeta cry out with what sounded perilously close to pain. Piccolo pulled his head out of Vegeta. Vegeta’s hips rocked toward Piccolo’s cock and desperate, agonized cries escaped his lips.

Piccolo brushed his fingers over Vegeta’s cock. “Piccolo…fuck…please…”

“Please, what, sexy?” Piccolo growled, teasing Vegeta’s bud with just his tip. Dipping inside him and withdrawing.

“Please, please make me come. I feel like I’m going to explode.”

“Should I ease back inside you and push so hard on your spot until you can’t resist anymore?” Piccolo traced Vegeta’s nipples and continued, “Or should I slip my finger inside you, tease you over the edge with just enough pressure? Should I not give your ass anything and just jerk you off? Hmmm? Or should I slam my cock into you so hard?”

Vegeta’s eyelids fell heavy and he gasped, “Whatever you’ll give me, Piccolo. Anything. Please! Take my pleasure however you want. Please though, please, love.”

Piccolo swirled his fingers around Vegeta’s twitching bud, then pushed the tip of his cock so slowly into the hungry heat of his mate’s ass, making his little lover quake with need. He reached Vegeta’s p-spot and he brushed the head of his cock along it. Vegeta begged for more, becoming incoherent. Piccolo pinned his hips again as they tried to rebel.

When Vegeta broke free from Piccolo’s hold, Piccolo pulled his cock out completely. Vegeta cried out in misery, his eyes flying open. Piccolo’s cock was twitching now too. He probed Vegeta’s opening, adding to the slick with pre-cum.

Vegeta looked close to tears as Piccolo whispered, “You feel how your sweet, tight ass is making me slick, sexy? Do you feel how hungry my cock is for your ass? I’m going to push back inside you and I’m going to touch your spot and you’re not going to come until I tell you, right, sexy? I’m going to let my cock have its fill of your perfect ass. When I fill you, then you can come. Do you understand?”

Vegeta nodded and his eyelids slid down again as Piccolo started slowly penetrating Vegeta again. Piccolo’s cock was swollen as he inched into Vegeta, sweat pouring off him as he whimpered and tried to still his shuddering.

Piccolo pulsed softly once he was buried up to the hilt in Vegeta. Vegeta gasped and pleaded with every touch. Piccolo’s head pressed on Vegeta’s p-spot, but he wanted to torment Vegeta, to make him edge until the orgasm clawed its way out of his little mate’s body. Piccolo changed his angle to press up harder on Vegeta’s spot.

Vegeta shook and whimpered, “Please, love, please…”

“Grip my cock. Use your hot, tight ass and grip me until I come. Then I’ll hit your spot again and again for you. Do it, Vegeta.”

Vegeta’s face flushed and more sweat streamed off him as he whined with need, but he did as Piccolo said. The increased pressure and tension was so good that Piccolo thought about drawing it out longer.

Vegeta’s hand drifted down toward his cock, but Piccolo seized it and pinned it. “Earn this cum, sexy. Earn it. Work me harder.”

Vegeta’s hips thrummed with the energy they expended trying to take more from Piccolo, but he only used the powerful muscles of his asshole, clenching and unclenching until Piccolo gasped, “Again! Harder!” and felt his climax surge up through his balls and he rammed his dick against Vegeta’s spot as pulse after pulse of cum rocketed out of him, making his head nearly vibrate against Vegeta’s prostate.

Vegeta’s clenched into a tighter ball, every muscle taut and flexed, and then he exploded, screaming, and bashed hard against Piccolo, breaking Piccolo’s hold as he could have all along. Piccolo met his mate’s powerful thrusts, causing intense aftershocks as Vegeta’s balls tightened making his ass seize and spasm on Piccolo’s cock. Vegeta’s cum splattered his whole torso and chin as he writhed against Piccolo, begging in Saiyan and English, “Please, please, please, Piccolo!”

“Take my dick, Vegeta. Love my cock with your perfect ass!” Piccolo growled and slammed against Vegeta’s sensitive p-spot again and again until Vegeta released another stuttering cry and came again, whimpering and clinging to Piccolo, wrapping his legs tight around Piccolo to pull him deeper.

“I need to come again, Vegeta, I need it. Give it to me.”

Vegeta lunged up and thrust two fingers deep into Piccolo’s ass, rough and hard, reaching for Piccolo’s p-spot. Vegeta brushed it and it sent Piccolo into a powerful climax. It felt amazing to come so much in Vegeta that his cum squelched out of Vegeta’s ass. Vegeta whimpered more, twitching and straining for more penetration.

Piccolo kissed Vegeta tenderly and clutched his little mate’s body against his broad green chest. They gradually came down off the high of such a prolonged, drawn out orgasm. Piccolo rolled so Vegeta was on top of him, but stayed inside his quaking mate.

Piccolo kissed Vegeta’s temple and ran his hands over Vegeta’s back until their hips finally stopped surging together. Vegeta buried his face in Piccolo’s pecs, kissed the smooth skin.

“Hey,” Piccolo whispered, tilting his chin down to try to look Vegeta in the eye.

“Hmm?” Vegeta hummed, but didn’t look up.

“You okay?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Vegeta?”

“Yes,” Vegeta said, his accent thick.

“Please look at me.”

Piccolo felt Vegeta hesitate. He moved carefully and sat up astride Piccolo. Piccolo’s cock, still hard, slid deeper inside Vegeta, who shuddered as more cum leaked out of his tip.

Vegeta’s eyes were glassy as he stared down at Piccolo.

“Are you really okay?”

Vegeta nodded, but didn’t speak. Piccolo curled up to kiss his little mate’s mouth. Vegeta gasped and moved his hips to meet the changing angle of Piccolo’s cock, his eyelids falling heavy.

Piccolo slipped his tongue inside Vegeta’s mouth, met at first by stillness, but after a moment, Vegeta took him eagerly, kissing Piccolo back. Vegeta kissed more roughly, starting to move his hips again with little soft cries.

“Sexy?”

Vegeta murmured in Saiyan as he wrapped his arms around Piccolo’s shoulders.

“Hey, will you please talk to me? I’m sorry. I went a little feral.”

Vegeta only muttered more Saiyan and bit down Piccolo’s neck before sucking his way back up to Piccolo’s lips.

“Vegeta, come on, you know I don’t understand most of what you say in Saiyan.”

Vegeta whispered, gasped really, pumping more enthusiastically on Piccolo, “I’m fine.”

Piccolo held Vegeta’s face to look in his eyes. Vegeta’s eyes searched his, and Vegeta’s were scared and hurt. “I’m sorry, sexy.” Vegeta shook his head and closed his eyes, kissing Piccolo more. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Vegeta. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t,” Vegeta rasped against Piccolo’s lips, his eyes stubbornly closed.

“The fuck I didn’t, you look like you’re about to cry.”

Vegeta wouldn’t stop riding Piccolo’s cock, so he was increasingly distracted by the bliss of Vegeta’s ass squeezing him. Vegeta bit Piccolo’s ear softly and murmured, “Will you make love to me, _minaiya_?”

“Of course, _atheanna_ , I love you,” Piccolo whispered and held Vegeta in his arms. Piccolo rolled his hips in rhythm with Vegeta’s movement. They kissed as they surged together, Piccolo’s tongue seeking out Vegeta’s, wanting the reassurance and the intimacy that kissing brought him.

Piccolo held Vegeta’s body with one arm and cradled Vegeta’s face with his other and forced Vegeta to look into his eyes as they climbed together. Piccolo rasped, “Fuck, Vegeta, you feel so good, you’re going to make me come. Are you there?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Vegeta cried and clutched Piccolo’s face, kissed him deeply, and his cum increased the sticky mess already coating them both.

Piccolo groaned with his release and bucked up into Vegeta, trying to be gentle until Vegeta hissed, “Again, I need it again!”

Piccolo rammed up into his mate and felt Vegeta’s enormous release. Vegeta crumpled in Piccolo’s arms, gasping and rocking, the last few pulses of semen hitting Piccolo’s chest.

Piccolo kissed Vegeta everywhere he could reach, murmuring his love in Saiyan and English. Vegeta got off him and Piccolo felt bereft. Vegeta got a towel and cleaned them off. He pushed Piccolo back on the bed.

“I’m sorry, Vegeta.”

“Don’t be sorry. That was hot. Just very, very intense. I needed a minute to…recover.” Vegeta loved on Piccolo’s belly more and trailed his fingertips up and down Piccolo’s slit, making Piccolo’s _theadur_ actually ache.

“Vegeta, please, no more teasing.”

“Can I fist you first? Give my dick a little rest?”

“Fuck, yeah, oh gods, you made me hard just saying it.”

The tips of all five of Vegeta’s fingers probed his sheath’s entrance and Piccolo realized that wouldn’t be enough. He said quietly, as he was a little ashamed, “Can you…can you finger my ass at the same time?”

“Gods, love, no wonder you had to ravish me like that. You’re hungry, aren’t you?” Vegeta growled.

Piccolo nodded and whispered, “You’ve made me wait two days without so much as a hand-job. It’s been hard. Masturbating does nothing.”

“Have you been?” Vegeta’s eyes lit up.

“A bit,” Piccolo shrugged, startling as Vegeta slid his middle finger inside Piccolo’s ass. “Fuck, sexy, please, one won’t cut it. Stop teasing my sheath.”

Vegeta grinned and slid a second alongside the first in Piccolo’s ass. Piccolo trembled at the increased pressure. He thought fucking Vegeta so thoroughly might cure him of his constant ache for his mate, but it only seemed to inflame it, make him want Vegeta inside him even more.

Vegeta groaned and he pushed his whole fist inside Piccolo’s sheath, moving it in and out gingerly before twisting it to rub his knuckles on all the sensitive spots inside Piccolo. Piccolo spread his legs wider and brought them up to his shoulders.

Vegeta purred, “Gods, I love watching me slide in both parts of you. It’s so fucking hot. Can I stretch you more? Put a third in your ass?”

“Yes, Vegeta, fuck, yes!” Piccolo cried.

Vegeta trembled and sweated again, but now Piccolo was at his mercy instead of the other way around. Vegeta bent and sucked hard on Piccolo’s nipples, moving back and forth as he worked a third finger inside Piccolo’s hungry ass.

“Vegeta, I’m…I need you. Please. Please make me come, don’t tease, please. I know I was cruel, but please, don’t.”

“Can I keep fingering after you come?”

“Yeah, fuck, yeah, Vegeta, please!”

Vegeta moved his fist more aggressively and hit Piccolo’s p-spot simultaneously until Piccolo froze, crying out, and his semen arced through the air in pearly strands.

“That’s my love, so pretty when you come for me like this. Come for me more, love,” Vegeta murmured and bent to suck Piccolo’s cock as he thrust into Piccolo more. Piccolo cascaded almost immediately into another combined orgasm that made Piccolo’s body hum like he was a live wire.

“Stroke me, love, I want to come on you. Please, Piccolo!” Vegeta said, pulling off and shifting to be beside Piccolo’s body. 

Piccolo took hold of Vegeta’s prick, but paused to scoop up some of his own cum to use as lube, and returned to Vegeta, running his hand furiously up and down Vegeta’s shaft as Vegeta continued fisting and fingering him. Vegeta’s tail brushed back and forth between Piccolo’s nipples.

Piccolo’s sheath went off again, which made Vegeta come in turn, bucking up into Piccolo’s giz-slick fist. As Vegeta’s cum splattered Piccolo’s face, Piccolo’s own poured onto the mess on his belly.

They eased off their movements and Vegeta carefully pulled out of Piccolo. Vegeta cleaned them up and kissed Piccolo softly, sweetly, and climbed back into bed. Piccolo moved to speak, but Vegeta rolled Piccolo onto his side and thrust inside his sheath as they spooned, not fucking him so much as comforting him. Mating like a Namek.

“You feel so good in me, Vegeta,” Piccolo mumbled as sleep closed in on him.

“And you feel amazing on me, love. I’m sorry I didn’t give this to you the past two days. I want this baby so badly it’s making me a bit stupid.”

“It’s okay, sexy. I’ve been scared too. Reluctant to accept it in case I miscarry or it’s stillborn.”

Vegeta squeezed him and kissed his shoulders more. “Yes. I suppose the flip-side of intense love is the fear of losing it.”


	10. Surprises

Piccolo’s labor came on with terrible intensity on the thirteenth day, a fact that filled him with superstitious dread. Vegeta drove him to Dende’s clinic and Dende got him settled in their Namek birthing room.

“Normal labor involves slow, gradual contractions for hours while your partner couples with you, but you’ve skipped over that, Piccolo, and your _theadur_ is almost entirely open, meaning you need to be ready to push. I’ll be back in a few minutes to check you again. If you feel the urge to push, push, but don’t shoot the egg out too fast or you’ll damage yourself.”

Piccolo screamed through every back-breaking contraction and no matter what Vegeta did, Piccolo felt such agony that he almost wished for death. No pain in his life had prepared him for the body-rending suffering of labor.

“The urge to push” was a phrase that was essentially meaningless to Piccolo, so he wondered what Dende had meant. Until a new type of contraction wracked his body demanding exactly that: like his _theadur_ was trying to vomit. He clung to Vegeta’s hand as he dropped into a squat and pushed.

A bizarre shifting sensation happened inside him and he groaned, “Vegeta, get Dende, I think…I fucking think there’s two.”

Vegeta’s eyes widened and he hurried to the door and called for Dende in the hallway. In seconds he was back behind Piccolo, helping him stay balanced in his squatting position while Piccolo heaved. Piccolo was sure his body was being torn in jagged halves, that he would look down and see cracked ribs and entrails. But when he dared to glance down, there was only his massive, taut belly.

Dende returned with a device that he pressed to Piccolo’s belly and moved around for several minutes. Dende’s eyes were wide as he said, “Oh dear, yes, not two but three, Piccolo. Now wonder your labor was so precipitous. You Saiyans always seem to cause multiples in Nameks. Vegeta, here, press here, not too hard, and here as well. Piccolo, I need the next push to be a big one, okay?”

Piccolo nodded and obeyed his body when every nerve commanded him to bear down. He did. Dende grinned and said, “It’s almost out, Piccolo, hold steady until your next urge.”

Piccolo groaned and struggled and expected to die for five eternal hours when at last, he gave a final heave and felt his third egg release into the world. Piccolo expected to finally have reprieve from his suffering, but his body began shrinking and pulling back to its former size and texture. Piccolo sobbed through that, having survived labor without tears. Dende and Vegeta both assured him he was doing great.

Later that evening Dende popped in to check on Piccolo. Dende said, “My goodness, Piccolo. That is the fastest delivery of multiples I have ever seen. And such a surprise after your long journey to getting pregnant. I fear you may have to move to a larger flat.”

Piccolo’s body looked normal again but he felt torn to shreds, like a raw, open wound. Vegeta kissed his brow and murmured, “Shh…Don’t worry about that, love. I’ll take care of it. We have several weeks.”

Dende continued, “My Saiyan-Namek hybrids tend to run closer to twenty weeks. So you’ll have some time. Most immediately you’ll need a multi-egg incubator as I assume you only have a single. But I’m sure Vegeta can get that while you rest Piccolo. We have one here at the birthing center, but I’m sure you’re eager to get home.” 

Tears sprang into Piccolo’s eyes and he whispered to Vegeta, “I don’t want you to leave!”

“No, love, I’ll set my kin on it. I’ll be here watching over you and our young. Just rest. Get some sleep. Don’t worry about a thing except healing up.”

The few days after Piccolo gave birth were strange and distorted, like a poorly executed Dalí painting. Vegeta, true to his word, handled everything. He took Piccolo on tours of beautiful, spacious new flats high above the city.

After the third one that was so far above Piccolo’s price range he couldn’t even let himself look he whispered, “Vegeta! What are we doing here? We can’t afford this!”

“Don’t worry about that, love,” Vegeta said, as though money wasn’t a factor in the type of home one lived in.

“How can I possibly not worry? My place is a fucking steal and is probably more than I should spend on rent—“

“We’re going to buy, not rent—“

“Holy shit, Vegeta! How? We have three babies to clothe and feed and get childcare for—“

Vegeta looked aghast and growled, “ _I’m_ going to care for them, not some stranger!”

“But then we’ll have only my income, sexy, and I do well, but not _that_ well,” Piccolo paused and gestured at the beautiful living area with big windows looking out over the bay, before he continued, “but not _this_ well.”

“I think it’s time we get married and have a chat about our finances. I want to make sure you’re—“

Piccolo froze and he held Vegeta’s hand. Vegeta continued to walk, only stopping once Piccolo’s hand pulled him to a halt. Piccolo stammered, “Did…did you…did you just casual-ass say we should get fucking _married_?”

Vegeta flared his nostrils and said, “We just had fucking _triplets_ together, love, marriage does seem like a trifling commitment relative to that.”

Piccolo tripped over his words, “I…Is..are you…is this a lame, non-romantic proposal?”

Vegeta’s eyes widened. “Oh. Shit. I forgot that you’re Earthling in custom. Since I already invited you to touch my tail and you accepted, I’ve considered us married all along. I’m sorry, love, would you like me to do it properly like the Earthling romances?”

Vegeta’s question was entirely earnest and sweet, not at all mocking. Piccolo laughed. “No, sexy, that’s okay. Yes, I’ll marry you. Do you want to have a wedding or just go to a judge?”

Vegeta shrugged. “Whatever will make you happy, love. But stop fretting about money. I mean it.”

“But—“

“Stop. I assure you, I will take care of it. Pick whichever flat you like. They’re all pretty close to your studio.”

Piccolo couldn’t put money out of his mind, but they agreed on one with a nice kitchen for Vegeta, hardwood for Piccolo, and four bedrooms so the babies would each have their own space once they were older.

Piccolo started planning how to move and Vegeta looked horrified when Piccolo told him some of the quotes, renewing Piccolo’s worry about money. Vegeta clicked Piccolo’s phone off. Vegeta said, “My kin will move us, obviously! Stop fretting! Let me take care of you, Piccolo, you just gave birth. Please, stop worrying.”

* * *

Every change Piccolo wanted in their new flat, Vegeta saw done. Every piece of furniture he liked arrived. Every little outfit he commented on, appeared in triplicate in the closet of the nursery. Finally, Piccolo’s financial panic broke him.

“Vegeta, I know you told me not to worry, but I’m freaking out! I don’t understand. Are you just going into massive credit card debt? Why didn’t I have to sign any mortgage papers? What’s going on?”

Vegeta laughed. He shook his head and got out his laptop. After a moment he said, “Come here, love,” waving Piccolo over to sit beside him on their new couch. Piccolo stared in disbelief at the screen. Vegeta said, “This is what I have in cash on hand after buying our flat. This doesn’t include my properties, my investments, my savings, or my business ventures.”

The number at the top of each of the three accounts was bigger than all the money Piccolo had ever made in his life combined by orders of magnitude. He gaped and turned to Vegeta, “But…what? How?”

“I was lucky. I was born well-off, but I spent my youth very shrewdly investing and building an intergalactic empire while I worked in the special forces. I worked all over the universe doing scary shit for scary people. So I have a lot of connections that paid off in my business dealings. I only work as a PT and a surgeon because I like it. I do a minimal amount for my empire because I have very competent people running it. So will you _please_ stop worrying about whether it’s okay to get three of the little clothes you like for the babies? It _is_ okay. Please enjoy the small window they will allow us to dress them. Get the furniture you want. Have our walls painted the color you want. Get the fucking crepe pan you keep hemming and hawing about. I will make you crepes. Let me spoil you, Piccolo.”

Piccolo flopped back heavily into the cushions of the couch. “And here I thought I’d be supporting you since you wanted to stay home with the kids. I guess you’ll be supporting all of us.”

“You support yourself just fine. And we could have made it work on your salary, but I’m tired of living like we had to be careful. I didn’t soldier away my youth to be austere in later years.”

Piccolo realized with a little start that he had no idea how old Vegeta was. Saiyans never aged until the bitter end. Piccolo said, “How…how old are you?”

Vegeta laughed. “How old do you think I am?”

“Thirty?”

Vegeta laughed more. “How old are you, love?”

“Thirty-three,” Piccolo said.

“I’m older than you, but it doesn’t matter. Saiyans are long-lived and hard to kill.”

“You’re not going to tell me?” Piccolo said, a little wounded.

“Does it matter?”

“No, but I can still be curious, can’t I?”

“I’ll be fifty next year.”

“Fucking gods, you look good!”

“You too, love, but thank you.”

* * *

As Piccolo’s season started up again, the detectives began sniffing around once more and Piccolo’s fear rose again. He and Vegeta had a small ceremony one weekend at the beach to commemorate their legal marriage, with only their eggs and a small cohort of friends. Much to Piccolo’s amusement and Vegeta’s irritation, Broly, who stood up for Vegeta, wept like a baby through most of the wedding. Bulma stood up for Piccolo.

Piccolo noticed that Dende’s cheeks kept flushing as he talked to Bulma, and Bulma kept touching him whenever she laughed. Krillin and 18 had also revealed that they were both engaged and pregnant. The whole event felt auspicious and happy to Piccolo, like this was how everything was meant to be.

Piccolo’s winter season was closing out soon. He and Vegeta slept curled around their eggs every night, holding hands, and talking until they drifted off.

“Only three weeks left, Vegeta, I’m so excited! I’m nervous too, but mostly excited.”

Vegeta hummed happily, his eyes closed. “I am too, love. I can’t wait to see their little faces. Do you think we have everything we need?”

“Vegeta, we have mountains of baby stuff. As long as we have diapers and wipes and my nipples work, we’ll be fine.”

“Are you up for nursing?” Vegeta said, his eyes opening halfway, searching Piccolo’s.

“Yeah, I think it’ll be nice,” Piccolo said, imagining having his little babies curled up against him. “What about you, sexy?”

“I’m trying not to get my hopes up. Dende said it’s fifty-fifty with Saiyans. I’d rather be pleasantly surprised than disappointed, so I’m assuming that I won’t be able to do it.”

Piccolo slid his hand between Vegeta’s legs and cupped his balls. “Dende told me our chances are better if we fuck more close to hatching.”

A smirk curled Vegeta’s lips and he purred, “Hard to fuck much _more_ than we already are, love.”

“I know, but we could try, especially after my last show this weekend. We could devote ourselves entirely to lovemaking,” Piccolo said, stroking Vegeta’s fast-hardening cock. 

Vegeta moved the eggs carefully out of the bed, back into the incubator. “What if I want to devote myself to lovemaking sooner than that?” He pulled Piccolo against him. He held both their cocks and stroked them together. He kissed Piccolo sweetly at first, but the heat of it gradually increased until he was plundering Piccolo’s mouth, twining their tongues, and stroking their dicks faster.

“I need to be inside you, love. How do you want me?” Vegeta gasped.

“I want both. Is your tail feeling feisty?”

“Gods, yes, always—which way?”

“I want your prick in my ass, sexy, I need it,” Piccolo said as he got up on all fours. Vegeta lubed himself as he fingered Piccolo gently, caressing and stretching him. Vegeta’s tail coiled around Piccolo’s cock before shoving its tip inside Piccolo’s sheath, making Piccolo groan.

As Vegeta’s tail worked deeper inside him, Piccolo pleaded, “Fuck me, Vegeta, please, please, I can’t wait.”

Vegeta eased into Piccolo, bit his mating mark and wrapped his arms around Piccolo’s belly. He rasped, “No matter how much I fuck you, I always want more. Gods, I love you, Piccolo. I love you so much.”

Piccolo arched toward his mate, loving the synchronized thrusting, going wild with pleasure. Piccolo knew he wouldn’t last long, but Vegeta never minded if he came quickly when he bottomed, not that he minded when Piccolo topped him either. Vegeta loved him too much to ever be upset about anything like that.

“Sexy,” Piccolo breathed, “I’m so close. Holy shit, when you do both, I can’t hold back. Fuck, Vegeta…” Piccolo held his breath. He wanted to hold on and come with Vegeta.

Vegeta bit him again and groaned, “I’m about to come, love, let go. Let go and come for me!”

Piccolo’s body erupted with pleasure and Vegeta roared as he filled Piccolo, their bodies slamming together with need. Piccolo wailed through his climax, loving the feel of Vegeta’s big, powerful hands on his hips, one splaying wide and slapping Piccolo’s ass with a satisfied grunt.

They collapsed together and Vegeta kissed all over Piccolo’s back and shoulders. Piccolo shuddered when Vegeta pulled out. They cleaned up and put the eggs back in bed. Again. It was the third time that evening they’d had to move them.

This time Vegeta dropped off to sleep immediately, but fear nibbled at Piccolo. The detectives were determined to pin Zarbon’s murder on Vegeta. Vegeta finally filed a harassment suit against the police as they had yet to produce a single piece of evidence linking Vegeta to the crime. All they had was the timing of the murder coinciding with when Piccolo and Vegeta started dating.

* * *

Piccolo and Vegeta made good on their agreement to fuck as much as possible once Piccolo’s season ended. Piccolo was almost constantly a mess—like he had a permanent coating of cum on his belly, though he fucked Vegeta often enough that his little mate probably did too. Vegeta did the majority of the fucking though and it was frequent enough that Piccolo was pretty perpetually leaking semen and splattered with fresh ropes of his own.

Vegeta was insatiable. Piccolo kept expecting to feel sated himself or put upon, but every time Vegeta’s hands slid onto Piccolo’s hips or his mouth found Piccolo’s, Piccolo was starving for Vegeta like they’d been apart for months. Broly had come to live with them, “guarding” them again, and Piccolo wondered what the poor man thought about having to listen to his former lover fucking nonstop for days on end.

The eggs were due to hatch any day, but it only made Vegeta more animal in his desire, more needy, more hungry. So Piccolo wasn’t surprised that he heard the first crack and tiny growl when Vegeta was pounding Piccolo in the ass, groaning and pleading for Piccolo to come on his cock and take Vegeta over the edge.

Piccolo froze. “Did you hear that, sexy?”

“Fuck, yes! I need to come, love, don’t leave me like this,” Vegeta begged, his accent breaking through.

“Fuck me hard, Vegeta, fuck me so hard!”

Vegeta’s enthusiasm increased and within minutes, Piccolo was spent, arching his back and slamming against Vegeta. Vegeta’s cock twitched inside him and filled him again.

Piccolo panted out, “Quick shower and clean sheets?”

Vegeta slapped Piccolo’s ass and bit him as he withdrew with a whimper. His accent was even thicker when he said, “Yes, let’s hurry. They’re half-Saiyan, so they’re probably impatient.”

“And grumpy!” Piccolo said, swatting Vegeta’s ass and earning a little scowl.

Their haste proved completely unnecessary as the eggs remained silent once they were out of the shower. Vegeta tackled Piccolo as they climbed into bed. They agreed that staying up was a terrible plan. Vegeta bit Piccolo’s pecs and obliques before sucking his cock like he meant business. 

“Gods, Vegeta!” Piccolo gasped, pushing him off. “Don’t! I want to fuck you!”

Vegeta growled happily and lubed Piccolo’s cock. He straddled Piccolo and sank slowly down on Piccolo’s shaft. “Fuck, Piccolo, you feel incredible inside me.”

“Ride me, sexy, let me see you ride me.”

Vegeta threw his head back and rode Piccolo, but at a leisurely, rolling pace. Piccolo savored the feel of his mate moving up and down on his cock so slowly. The pleasure was exquisite and drawn out.

Piccolo ran his hands along Vegeta’s thighs. He loved Vegeta’s thighs. Piccolo eventually slid his hands back to cup Vegeta’s taut little ass in his big hands. He moved Vegeta faster. 

Vegeta complained, “I want to fuck you slow.”

“Sexy, you’re teasing me, I need it. I’m so hot for you right now.”

“Please, love, let me ride you slow?”

Piccolo curled up and kissed his mate. “Alright, sexy, ride me slow. Can I touch your cock?”

Vegeta frowned and said, “Please let me have it just like this?”

“You know I’ll do anything for you, sexy. You know that. I’ll just keep enjoying the view, touching your perfect fucking thighs.”

Vegeta’s ass worshipped Piccolo’s prick, gripping it and practically sucking on it as Vegeta rose up and down, gasping as his fingers dug into Piccolo’s pecs. Piccolo was getting close, could feel that Vegeta was too. Vegeta’s ass twitched as pre-cum streamed out of his slit.

The tight spasming grip of Vegeta’s ass when he finally came, set Piccolo off and he groaned as he surged up into Vegeta. They heard another crack and an angry snarl as they rode out the final throes of ecstasy. Piccolo grinned. Vegeta bent to kiss him as another crack resounded in their bedroom—this one visible on the middle egg.

They cleaned up again and brought all three eggs onto the bed. Both Vegeta and Piccolo fell asleep before they heard any more cracks.

A flurry of cracks and snarls and growls awakened both of them just as the sun was rising. All three eggs had visible cracks now. Piccolo held Vegeta in his lap and they watched in awe as their young struggled into the world.

The first to emerge had wild black spikes of hair, little antennae, golden skin, like Vegeta’s, and a velvety black tail. It gnawed angrily on its fist as Piccolo plucked it out of the remainder of its shell. He glanced between its legs and said, “It’s a little girl, Vegeta!”

Vegeta beamed and caressed her tiny cheek as she busily latched onto Piccolo’s offered nipple. Piccolo felt strange at first, but then his pecs began to thrum and he could hear that his baby girl was no longer just suckling, but swallowing. Piccolo looked down and his other nipple dripped.

“Holy shit, Vegeta!”

“Look, love, another one is almost out!”

The second emerged and its face was a tiny Vegeta, but green with antennae on its widow’s peak. Its tail lashed angrily and it snarled, knocking chunks of shell away from itself. Vegeta lifted it up and said, “It’s a hermaphrodite like you, love.” Vegeta’s eyes were wide and scared as he asked, “Can I try?”

“Of course, Vegeta. Gods, I hope you can, because three is a lot.”

Vegeta pressed his green doppelgänger to his nipple. The baby latched furiously, sucking hard. Vegeta gasped and after a long moment of frowning, his face lit up and he turned to Piccolo with a huge grin. “It worked! I’m nursing!”

Piccolo leaned and kissed Vegeta. The third of their babies broke free, this one a little Piccolo with a tail, and another hermaphrodite. Vegeta scooped him up and held two, one nursing on each side, with such obvious pride that Piccolo couldn’t help his happy tears. Vegeta’s eyes filled too and he bumped his forehead against Piccolo’s, whispering his love in Saiyan and English.

They spent the morning lounging in bed with their young, learning how to diaper Saiyan-Namek strength babies with tails. Broly brought them food and drink as he doted on his niece and nephews. Broly joyfully spread the word to the Saiyan community that Vegeta’s young were hatched and healthy and feisty.

Piccolo felt like he was in the Godfather as Saiyans began stopping by over the next few days with gifts and envelopes of cash and Saiyan blessings and charms. Many dramatically dropping to one knee before Vegeta. Piccolo was tired enough that he just watched it all like a Saiyan soap opera.

Broly kept the detectives away when they stopped. Vegeta reported it, but their harassment suit was hung up in court. It had been so long and they still had nothing, but Piccolo feared they would get frustrated enough to “find” some evidence. Vegeta assured Piccolo that there was no way anything would stick in court, but Piccolo’s dread wouldn’t relent.


	11. Persuasion

The time off Piccolo had from performing didn’t feel like enough as it drew to a close. Vegeta brought the triplets to the studio so Piccolo could continue nursing, but Piccolo missed them whenever he was away for more than an hour or two. Vegeta told him he didn’t need to go back to work ever again, but Piccolo loved dancing. He trained so hard to get where he was and it upset him to think of letting that part of himself go.

The upside was that Piccolo loved watching Vegeta care for their young. It filled him with molten love so hot that Piccolo couldn’t keep his hands off Vegeta, no matter how exhausted they were. Every time Piccolo started touching Vegeta, Vegeta caressed Piccolo’s belly, kissed it, and praised his fecundity and the family they’d created together.

When the babies were just over a year old and tearing around, into everything, and more exhausting than ever, Vegeta slid into bed behind Piccolo after putting the babies to bed and reached for Piccolo’s sheath. Vegeta murmured, “Are you ready to give me more, love?”

Piccolo chuckled, kissing Vegeta over his shoulder until he realized Vegeta wasn’t laughing. He craned around farther to look into Vegeta’s eyes and whispered, “Are you serious?”

“Yes, Dende said we can no longer fuck your sheath with impunity because you’re likely fertile again.”

Piccolo rolled completely in Vegeta’s arms and searched his little mate’s face. “More? Really? We have _three_ , Vegeta! And they are so very Saiyan. It’s like living with a pack of rabid hyenas.”

Vegeta nodded happily, like that was the ideal behavior for three toddlers. Vegeta kissed Piccolo tenderly. Vegeta stroked Piccolo’s slit until he was panting, his _theadur_ ached for Vegeta’s cock. Vegeta purred, “What’s a few more when you’re already surrounded?”

“They just weaned last week, sexy,” Piccolo said, his legs opening helplessly for his mate.

“I know, I miss it. They’ll be almost two by the time the next ones hatch. And it might take a bit, like it did the first time,” Vegeta murmured, kissing Piccolo’s shoulder and dipping his fingers inside Piccolo.

“You really want more? It’s not just your nursing hormones talking?” Piccolo said, rapidly losing his ability to converse coherently.

“No, love, it’s my heart,” Vegeta whispered and smirked, “maybe a little bit my cock.”

Piccolo laughed and rolled his hips against Vegeta’s hand. “Can I think about it?”

“For how long? One minute? Two?” Vegeta said, grinning against Piccolo’s nipple as he bent to suck it.

“How about a week so you have some time to recover from Brola weaning? She’s such a Hoppi’s-girl.”

“Well, it’s only fair since Vela and Peta love you more.”

“That’s absurd, they know you’ll give them anything if they lash their little tails while staring you down with their big, dark eyes.”

“Like you’re one to talk, love.” Vegeta chortled and thrust his fingers deeper inside Piccolo, twisted them just the way Piccolo liked.

“Vegeta…” Piccolo groaned.

“I just want to touch you, love. I’ll keep my prick away.”

“I know, but your hand makes me _want_ your prick.”

Vegeta nuzzled Piccolo’s jaw, nipped and bit his way over to Piccolo’s ear and breathed, “Mmm…I know.”

Piccolo tried to pull himself out of the haze of lust that Vegeta cast around him. “Vegeta, don’t you think we should put more thought into having more children than whether or not we want to have unprotected sex?”

Vegeta took his hand away and he ran the hard, slick head of his cock over Piccolo’s slit as he purred, “Mmm…no.”

“You’re impossible tonight.”

“I’m impossible every night,” Vegeta said and bit Piccolo’s ear more. But he moved his cock away from Piccolo, but started fingering him again.

Piccolo couldn’t think at all with what Vegeta was doing to him. “Vegeta, please…”

“I love touching you, Piccolo…”

“Fuck…fuck my ass while you touch me, sexy.”

“I see you’re onto my wiles,” Vegeta said, sounding more than a little disappointed that he hadn’t been able to bamboozle Piccolo into getting pregnant again. 

“I just want you to fuck me,” Piccolo gasped, writhing against Vegeta.

Vegeta complied, lubing himself and moving behind Piccolo. He eased inside Piccolo’s ass while he kept up his manual magic in Piccolo’s _theadur_. He purred, “I know you want to give me more babies, love, I know it.”

“Not tonight, I don’t. Tonight I want you to fuck me hard and let me sleep.”

Vegeta chuckled and did just that. But Piccolo knew Vegeta wasn’t going to let his desire for more children go without a fight.

* * *

Piccolo held the line for three months of Vegeta whispering in his ear every night, driving him crazy touching his _theadur_ , but never getting angry or pushy. Though he never even bothered trying to persuade Piccolo without a hand on his sheath. Vegeta knew how to wage quiet war.

“What about tonight, love? Are you ready?”

“What happened to the man who said he’d still love me if we didn’t have _any_ children?” Piccolo asked, but he smiled.

Vegeta kissed along Piccolo’s neck and said, “He still loves you. And will, no matter what. But he can try to get his way, can’t he? Especially when the trying is so sweet.”

“He certainly does try, and so persistently,” Piccolo said, stealing a kiss.

“Come on, love, you know you can’t resist me. I smell how badly you want it. I smell how fertile you are. Your sheath cries out to my cock to be filled. Give in to me, my mate.”

“Vegeta…seriously? What if we have triplets again?”

“I swear to be content if we have triplets again, even though I’ll be sad to only have one more pregnancy to fuck you through.”

“Or twins,” Piccolo countered.

Vegeta pouted and whispered, “Oh, come on, Piccolo, six is such a nice number.”

“It’s not your body that has to push out that many eggs! If we only have _one_ , we can try again when _I_ am ready. But two or more and we’re _done_. Agreed?”

Vegeta’s eyes were imploring as he said, “But what if you change your mind?”

“Then lucky for you, sexy, but I want assurances I’m not going to have to fend you off eternally.”

“Mmm…fine, if it’s triplets, I’ll leave you be,” Vegeta said.

“Then no. No more.”

“Piccolo, please?” Vegeta pleaded.

“No. Two or more and you leave me alone about having more.”

Vegeta growled and said, “Very well.”

“Say it, Vegeta. Promise me,” Piccolo said.

Vegeta slid his hand onto Piccolo’s sheath as he purred, “I promise if it’s twins or more, I will not bother you for more.”

“Or ask in any fashion, verbal _or_ non-verbal.”

Vegeta repeated Piccolo’s words and climbed between Piccolo’s thighs. “ _Now_ , are you ready to give me more?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Piccolo said, trying to muster some enthusiasm.

“Dende said sometimes infertility lasts longer with multiples, so maybe you’ll get a reprieve.”

Piccolo kissed Vegeta softly and wrapped his arms around his little mate’s neck. “I have missed you fucking my _theadur_ , sexy.”

“I know, love. I always know what you need,” Vegeta growled, but before he could even thrust inside Piccolo, Peta began to wail.

Piccolo arched a brow. “This is why I’m reticent, Vegeta.”

“I’ll get him. His tummy’s upset because he ate so many leaves at the fucking park. He eats non-food items like a cheetah with scavengers around,” Vegeta grumbled as he pulled on a pair of shorts.

Piccolo laughed, but he was constantly exhausted, so he slipped into sleep the minute Vegeta shut the bedroom door. It seemed like only seconds later when he startled awake to Vegeta kissing over his shoulder, though he smelled strange. Piccolo slurred, “I’m tired, Vegeta.”

“Vegeta’s not here,” came the voice that Piccolo had spent years trying to forget. He screamed as he turned and saw Zarbon’s flayed face, maggots falling out of his green braid as he moved above Piccolo.

“Piccolo! Piccolo, love, shush! It’s me, love, it’s Vegeta! You’re having a nightmare. Wake up, love. Wake up, my mate. Shush. I’m here. I’ll keep you safe.”

Piccolo sat up and looked frantically around. Only Vegeta was there. No smell of Zarbon, or any other sign. A nightmare. Just a nightmare.

“Oh, love, you hadn’t had a nightmare in so long. Did I stress you out that much with my pushy desire for a brood?” Vegeta asked with genuine concern.

Piccolo tried to catch his breath. He was soaked in foul-smelling fear-sweat. He scrubbed his hands over his face as he said, “Fuck. Sorry. No. I don’t know. It was so real. It was awful. He was here and he touched me.” Piccolo wanted to puke.

Vegeta held him and murmured, “Not tonight, huh?”

“No, um, I’m sorry. I’m too freaked out. It was so real. Like he’d broken in. I’m gonna go rinse off and go to sleep, okay?”

“Of course, love. I’ll keep you safe. I’ll watch over you.”

* * *

The next morning, Broly and his new boyfriend, Cabba, came by and offered to take the triplets to the park down the street. Even though the triplets were only about a year and a half old, both Saiyans and Nameks matured much faster than humans, so they were running, climbing, and talking like much older children, even though they were still fairly small. 

“Untle Bwoly!” They all screamed and clambered up his legs until they were on his broad shoulders and head. Broly chortled merrily.

“Good morning, my little piranhas. Do you want to come play with Uncle Broly and let your parents sleep a little more?”

“Sleep is for _old_ people,” Peta said with a look of pity at his parents.

“It is and your Hoppi is very _old_ ,” Broly said, nudging Vegeta.

Vegeta turned his face to receive Broly’s kiss on his cheek, and kissed Broly’s in turn. Piccolo did too, finally somewhat acclimated to the murderous looking Saiyan being such a big, lovey-dovey cupcake. Vegeta plucked his young off Broly and squeezed them in a big group hug, growling at them in Saiyan and kissing all over their faces as they giggled. Finally they pleaded for him to let them go with Untle Bwoly, so he released them.

They swarmed Piccolo with tight little hugs and slobbery kisses and Saiyan growls of love before racing to the elevator to see if Untle Bwoly could catch them. Piccolo thought from Cabba’s horrified expression, that this boyfriend wouldn’t last long either. Piccolo wished Broly could find someone who had as much love and squishiness so they could pour all their affection into one another.

The door barely clicked shut before Vegeta spun with a sexy, licentious smirk. He swung Piccolo up into his arms and carried him back to the bedroom. “Sleep is _not_ what I have in mind for our blissfully quiet morning, love.”

Piccolo laughed and kissed Vegeta. “No? But you’re old. I thought you needed more sleep?”

“I need something,” Vegeta said, chuckling and tossing Piccolo on the bed, “but it’s not sleep.”

“Oh? Breakfast? Another cup of tea? To go running?” Piccolo said, stretching out casually to flex all his muscles for Vegeta’s visual pleasure.

Vegeta’s eyes roamed over him and he climbed above Piccolo. He kissed Piccolo roughly, his hands running over Piccolo’s body as he stripped off their shorts. Vegeta became more animal by the second, nipping and biting at Piccolo as he growled, “Can I mate with you, love?”

“Gods, yes,” Piccolo breathed and Vegeta rolled him and mounted him. He bit Piccolo’s back to hold him still and thrust savagely, his hips snapping so fast it was almost a vibration and it drove Piccolo into a shocking, fast, and powerful orgasm.

Piccolo bucked back against Vegeta and gasped. Vegeta allowed it for a moment before giving a warning growl. He wrapped his hands on Piccolo’s hips and rammed into him breathing harshly through his mouth where he still held Piccolo’s skin between his teeth. Vegeta whimpered and filled Piccolo as his first orgasm gripped him.

Piccolo spread himself wider, tried to give Vegeta better access because he knew they were just getting started. Vegeta released his mating mark and licked it. He slammed his hips against Piccolo's ass a few times before rocking into Piccolo more slowly, running his hands along Piccolo’s flanks.

Piccolo reared back onto his knees and used his dancer flexibility to spin and kiss Vegeta. Vegeta kept a vicious grip on his hip and fucked him as they kissed, but his other hand trailed up to Piccolo’s jaw. He held it, kissed Piccolo tenderly, and paused only to murmur in Saiyan, _“Zoole, vk karam oon tuv ron oon jaisaya, karam.” Gods, I love you as if you were air, love._

Piccolo answered in Saiyan, “ _Tol vk karam oon tuv ron oon qvoenta."_ _And I love you as if you were food_.

Vegeta paused and stared into Piccolo’s eyes, still so pleased whenever Piccolo spoke to him in Saiyan. Piccolo certainly wasn’t fluent by any means, but he understood most of what Vegeta said now in bed, at least. This was different though. This was a traditional Saiyan way of expressing deep love that Vegeta often used, and only recently had Broly taught Piccolo the proper response.

It clearly made Vegeta happy. He tipped Piccolo onto his back and thrust back inside Piccolo’s sperm-slick _theadur_. Vegeta used Piccolo’s cum as lube and began to stroke Piccolo’s cock with a delightful twisting motion.

Vegeta grinned down at Piccolo and purred, “You do know how to please your mate, love. Do you know how turned on it makes me hearing you speak Saiyan with your cute little accent?”

Piccolo laughed and wrapped his arms around Vegeta, his legs too. Piccolo curled up enough that he could bite Vegeta’s ear and whispered, “ _Vk karam leasit tse yunal, mrukenai novz uvlen qi,_ Vegeta." _I love the feel of your big, hard cock inside me,_ Vegeta. Broly had been delighted to teach Piccolo some dirty bedroom talk. And Piccolo had picked some up from Vegeta too. 

Vegeta groaned, “Oh, love, you’re cruel, saying these things to me. How will I ever stop fucking you?”

“I don’t want you to stop fucking me, sexy,” Piccolo murmured, biting Vegeta more.

Vegeta arched over Piccolo, driving deeper inside him, and kissed him more, whispered more love.

Broly kept the kids until after lunch, coming home after taking them out to eat, bemoaning how expensive it was to feed three growing Saiyans. Vegeta smirked and slipped Broly some cash. Piccolo loved seeing Vegeta so jovial and relaxed after three months of his minor stress about getting more children out of Piccolo. Vegeta wore only a lightweight pair of drawstring pants and they hugged his ass in such a way that Piccolo’s mouth watered, even though he had just been so thoroughly fucked he could barely walk.

Piccolo felt pregnant. He would have to go see Dende to confirm it, but he was certain that his coupling with Vegeta had been productive. Piccolo took the triplets to put them down for a nap while Broly and Vegeta bantered. A Saiyan-Namek-baby-shocked Cabba stood bewildered, and likely contemplating how to end things with poor, sweet Broly.

As Piccolo finally got Peta, their most recalcitrant sleeper, down for his nap, he heard an abrasive series of knocks on the front door. The words he heard were straight out of Piccolo’s nightmares: “Vegeta, you are under arrest for the murder of Zarbon. You have the right to remain silent…”

Piccolo sprinted out to the foyer. “What the hell is going on? Why are you arresting him?”

“Shut your mouth, Namek, or we’ll take you in for obstruction, leave your foul alien whelps to starve.”

Vegeta’s face morphed into animal rage and Piccolo pleaded, “They’re trying to get you to do something stupid, Vegeta. Go calmly. I’ll be here. Broly will keep us safe. I’ll call your lawyer. _V_ _k karam oon tuv ron oon jaisaya_!” _I love you as if you were air._

Broly bit out fast Saiyan that Piccolo couldn’t follow. Even Cabba said a few things. “Broly, stay with the babies,” Piccolo begged and followed the detectives as they cuffed Vegeta and took him down to their car. Cabba came with Piccolo and Vegeta gave Cabba a fast string of instructions in Saiyan. At the last minute, he turned to Piccolo and said, “I love you, _minaiya._ I’ll be fine. I’ll do anything to get back to you. Don’t worry. _Vk k_ _aram oon tuv ron oon qvoenta._ ” _I love you as if you were food._

“Just cooperate, Vegeta, they obviously planted evidence,” Piccolo said as they shoved Vegeta into their car.

“I know. I know. Tell the babies Hoppi loves them,” Vegeta said as the door slammed. They drove away, Piccolo staring after them through tear-filled eyes.


	12. Trials and Tribulations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's the beginnings of the alien-sexy-times in this chapter. Keep an open mind and I think you'll enjoy.

Piccolo sprinted up the stairs to his flat, not caring how many flights it was, he needed to burn off some of his anger and his terror. By the time he got to their flat, completely exhausted and in tears, Broly had Vegeta’s attorney on the way to the police station.

Piccolo heard sirens wailing all over the city. He went out on their high balcony and his eyes widened. Mayhem had broken out. Smoke rose in lumpy gray columns all over the city. He watched as several Saiyans pulled a police helicopter right out of the air. Piccolo could see cop cars flipped upside down and on fire. Saiyans were on rooftops in packs on the move, maybe on the hunt.

Piccolo pulled out his phone and all the news sites were blowing up. Flayed corpses were appearing all over the city with PEDO or RAPIST in entrails underneath, clearly trying to confuse the issue of Vegeta’s guilt by having similar crimes perpetrated while he was in custody. Cabba kissed Broly, bid Piccolo farewell, and left with a gleam in his eye to join the fray. 

Broly sauntered out to stand next to Piccolo on the balcony watching the miniature apocalypse below. He rubbed Piccolo’s back and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you and the kids safe. They’re just trying to fluster ‘Geta because they have nothing. It’ll all be over in a week or two.”

But Piccolo, after checking to make sure the kids were still asleep, burst into agonized tears. Broly wrapped Piccolo in his monstrous arms and shushed him. “No, no, Piccolo. Don’t be afraid. It’ll be alright.”

“Broly, I’m fucking pregnant! I can’t do it without Vegeta!”

“Oh, fucking hell! He told me he was working on you, but I didn’t think you’d give in to his nonsense,” Broly chided.

Piccolo gave a snotty laugh and choked out, “He’s very persuasive in bed.”

Broly chuckled out, “Don’t I know it. Shit. Well, he’ll be out on bail in no time. Our bigoted mayor won’t want Saiyan riots with re-election season just around the corner. They must know keeping the Saiyan king locked up while his _minaiya_ is pregnant is a recipe for catastrophe.”

Piccolo stared out over the city, more smoke spiraling up into the sky, blending in with the dark clouds rolling in from the sea. Piccolo realized suddenly what Broly had said. Piccolo said, “I think the riot ship may have sailed, but did you just say ‘Saiyan king?’”

“Yeah,” Broly said and his eyes widened before he continued, “Do you…do you not know you’re mated to the King of All Saiyans?”

“What!?” Piccolo cried, “Vegeta said he was well-respected and _treated_ like royalty. He didn’t say he _was_ royalty. Why does the Saiyan king live on Earth? Holy shit. I’m…I’m married to a king?”

Broly said, “Vegeta-sei was uninhabitable—“

“What now? Your planet is named after him—“

“No, he is named after our planet—“

“Holy shit,” Piccolo wheezed.

“Stop interrupting, good gods, Piccolo, I am trying to tell you about 'Geta since your fucking _atheanna_ has left you in the dark. Vegeta-sei was hit with a massive meteor about…hmm…twenty-six years ago. Vegeta abdicated as Saiyans scattered all over the galaxy, but he and his father handled the evacuation perfectly. Every single Saiyan had funds to start fresh and a ship to get somewhere safe. His father died only a couple years after the cataclysm, and though Vegeta was never formally crowned, nearly every Saiyan reveres him as their leader. They respect him. Would fight for him.” Broly chortled, nodded as another couple Saiyans leapt up onto a cop helicopter, and said, “Are fighting for him right now.”

Piccolo breathed, “Fuck me—“

“I don’t think I should, Piccolo, he would kill me,” Broly said with a chuckle.

Piccolo laughed too. “Is his lawyer good?”

“Oh yeah, and this is a classic species-profiling case. A bit of political theater. The Xandrite clan Zarbon is from are all big campaign donors for the mayor. Undoubtedly they want a showy display of ‘justice’ for their revolting first son.”

Piccolo grimaced at the memory. He said, “Shit. I need to go see Dende to verify my situation.”

“Nah, there’s no way you’re going out in that mess, even though no Saiyan would mean to hurt you, it's war out there right now. Word travels fast amongst Saiyans. I’ll have Cabba and some of my guys bring him here. Wait, if you haven't been to Dende, does Vegeta not _know_ that you’re pregnant?”

“I’m sure he suspects, but, um, well, it’s pretty recent.”

Broly grinned. “Did he fuck you stupid this morning?”

“Yeah, he definitely did,” Piccolo said, half amused, half despondent. Piccolo saw traffic backed up all over the city. The two Saiyans Broly had pointed out ripped the rotors off the police helicopter even as it tried to gun them down. Piccolo saw Nameks in the fray too. The city seethed fifty stories below and Piccolo wished his quiet, happy life hadn’t exploded into this.

Around when the triplets woke up from their nap, Cabba finally arrived with Dende and Bulma, both of whom hugged Piccolo fiercely before saying anything. Piccolo said, “Bulma? What are you doing here?” Dende flushed violet. Piccolo’s jaw dropped, but he smiled and asked, “How long has _this_ been going on?”

Bulma giggled and kissed Dende’s cheek. She said, “We really hit it off at your wedding and one thing led to another, even if it took him a while to admit he wanted—“

“Bulma!” Dende cried, his eyes widening. He said, “You aren not my typical…type…of partner.” The big helpless smile that spread on his face made Piccolo happy. Dende shook his head and returned his attention to Piccolo. “Shall we see how dire the situation is?”

Minutes later, Dende confirmed that Piccolo was pregnant. Dende brought his scanner this time and checked how many. Piccolo held his breath, unsure whether he wanted twins, so this would be his final pregnancy, or a single egg, so he didn’t have to give birth to multiples. Dende sighed with relief and said, “Oh thank goodness, it’s only one.”

“Damnit, that man, I swear,” Piccolo grumbled.

“Were you not intending to get pregnant, Piccolo?” Dende asked. 

“No, I just agreed that if we only had one this time, we could try again when it was old enough, but that if it was two or more, I was done forever. I’m sure he somehow…I don’t know…planned to only put one in me so he can pump me full of quintuplets or worse next time!” Piccolo muttered. Before Dende could comment on this, big, heaving sobs ripped out of Piccolo. He and Vegeta would never have any more children if Vegeta went to prison for murder.

Dende consoled him and once he was calm, Piccolo went out and said to Broly, “Hey, can you get word to him that I’m pregnant, that it’s only one. But…that I need him. I need him to come home.”

Broly nodded and pulled out his phone, ducking into the room he that was tacitly his at their flat.

Broly, Cabba, Dende, and Bulma all agreed to stay that night. Piccolo let the triplets sleep in with him as they were all very upset that Hoppi was gone. Piccolo heard the soft sounds of the other four talking after he went to bed early with the triplets. Later he heard Bulma’s high voice crying out for Dende over and over. Piccolo smirked as he heard that Dende had quite a dirty mouth on him in bed. Namek hearing was often a curse, but an amusing curse at times. Cabba and Broly argued, had aggressive sex, and argued more. It seemed Cabba was indeed shell-shocked by the triplets.

Piccolo hardly slept at all, his _theadur_ and his womb throbbing and calling out for Vegeta. He drifted off as the first light of dawn dusted the city outside.

When he felt warm, rough hands on his body, he was sure it was another nightmare. His eyes snapped open, and then he thought it was a dream, because Vegeta was there, gently moving the babies so he could slide behind Piccolo and hold him.

“Sexy?” Piccolo mumbled.

“I’m home, love. Out on ridiculously high bail,” Vegeta whispered.

Piccolo pulled Vegeta’s arms tight around him. “What are they saying they have? Fuck. Why now? It’s been so long.”

Vegeta chuckled. “Suddenly a Xandrite witness came forward who said they saw a Saiyan with wild black hair making a blood eagle out of Zarbon. That narrows it down to eighty-five percent of Saiyans,” Vegeta said with a little snort.

“Are you serious? That’s what they have?” Piccolo said, turning over his shoulder.

“Yes, my lawyer already has almost forty Saiyans around my height and build with hair nearly identical to mine. It won’t stick, love, it’s just a fucking expensive pain in my ass. My lawyer is getting the trial pushed back until after the birth.”

Piccolo tried not to cry as he whispered, “This is my worst nightmare, Vegeta. I don't want you to go to prison because of me.”

“Shh…it will be fine. Nothing will keep me away from you and our family.”

“Hoppi!” Vela squawked, waking his siblings. They all scrambled onto Vegeta, nuzzling and biting him affectionately. It made Piccolo’s heart explode with love to see his mate with their young, so happy all together. Vegeta nuzzled them back, growling in Saiyan.

Then he said, “Did Daddy tell you three that you’re going to have a baby brother or sister?”

Three sets of wide eyes found Piccolo. They clambered onto him. Peta said, “When, Daddy? When are you getting a baby? Where do you get a baby?”

“I have to grow the baby in my womb, just like I did with you three.”

“Will you still love us?” Vela whined and began to cry.

Brola smacked Vela hard and said, “Stupid, Hoppi and Daddy love us no matter what, even when we’re very naughty. We have to love new baby too! New baby isn’t a triplet! New baby needs love!”

Vela snarled and attacked Brola. “Of course we love the new baby! Don’t hit!”

Peta smashed their heads together. “Stop dummies! You might hurt Daddy’s tummy with the baby in it.”

Vegeta gathered all three up in his arms, kissing their cheeks, and carried them to the kitchen to give them breakfast. The relief of having Vegeta home, if only for a few days, let Piccolo fall into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

* * *

The trial date was set for the week after the baby’s due date. Piccolo seemed to be the least angry as more riots broke out all over the city. Vegeta’s lawyer felt confident that it wouldn't even go to trial. Piccolo clung to that possibility to keep himself from despairing.

Piccolo thought he would be less uncomfortable with only one egg, but caring for three young Saiyan-Namekians was taxing, even though Vegeta and Broly tried to do almost everything. The triplets sensed that Piccolo’s attention would soon be diverted, so they became clingy and needy and wanted to be constantly near him, climbing on him, all sharp elbows and knees and lashing tails. Bulma and Dende stayed on as well, whether to help Piccolo or avoid the mayhem of the city, he didn’t know or care. Piccolo didn’t dare ask where Cabba had gone.

By the third day, Broly, Bulma, and Dende told Vegeta to tend to his mate exclusively. Piccolo clung to survival after Vegeta pulled out in the morning, but his misery grew heavier and more choking every hour. The triplets accepted their separation from both Hoppi and Daddy only because they got Untle Bwoly full time.

Piccolo held his hand over his mouth as Vegeta drove into him, sweating and gritting his teeth to stay quiet. As Piccolo arched his back in blissful climax, he curled up and bit Vegeta’s powerful shoulder in an effort to stifle his cries.

Vegeta gasped, “Come for me, _minaiya_ , come for your _atheanna_.”

Vegeta’s growling voice set Piccolo off even more and his semen sprayed up between them. He kissed Vegeta furiously to quiet Vegeta’s cries, the aching need for his mate dulled by Vegeta’s cum dripping out of him they had fucked so much already. It had only been a few hours since Broly banished them, but they made good use of the time.

Piccolo whispered, as they caught their breath, “I’m so scared, Vegeta.”

“No, don’t be, love. Don’t let them sap our joy. This _single_ baby is so fortuitous.”

“You just want to be able to knock me up again,” Piccolo said with a smirk.

“You’re fucking right, I do. I will _always_ want to knock you up because you’re _mine_ , my mate. Don’t you forget it if they lock me up for a bit.”

“What?! What do you mean?” Piccolo wheezed, his throat closing with terror. His heart raced and panic bloomed in his belly. His claws dug into Vegeta, earning a pleased hiss, but Piccolo’s mind was no longer on sex.

“I don’t want to scare you, I just want you to be mentally prepared. My lawyer says they’re trying to stack the jury.”

Piccolo started to shake. He said, “No, Vegeta, no, I can’t. I can’t live without you. I can’t. I need you.”

Vegeta caressed Piccolo’s face and kissed him. “I know. I need you too, love. I’ll never stay, no matter what bullshit they cook up. They’ve got some Namek expert to testify that I’d only be able to mate with you if Zarbon was dead.”

“Fuck!”

“Still circumstantial. My lawyer has counter-witnesses, other raped Nameks that have successfully pair-bonded.”

Piccolo wrapped himself around Vegeta and breathed in the comforting smell of his skin. How would Piccolo raise their young without Vegeta? How would he ever sleep again? How would he survive his broken heart?

* * *

Piccolo’s mating ritual was constantly interrupted by Vegeta’s lawyers. The prosecutor was demanding the trial be moved up, claiming Vegeta became a flight risk once his child was born. Namekian rights groups were involved, citing the confinement and trial of Piccolo’s mate while Piccolo was pregnant as cruel and unusual punishment, not even for the charged party, but for Piccolo.

The judge moved the trial up anyway with the caveat that Vegeta could go home each evening. The human judge. Who knew nothing of pair-bonds, or mating rituals, or magic. Namekian riots sprang up alongside Saiyan riots. The city came to a standstill. Nearly all grocery stores and food markets were run by Namekians and they vowed to starve the city with the Saiyans guarding them from looters if Vegeta’s trial went ahead mid-pregnancy.

Vegeta’s lawyers dug up corruption and bribery that implicated the sitting judge, so he quickly recused himself. The new judge agreed that five extra days were not worth citywide disaster.

Zarbon’s atrocities were strategically leaked to the press, namely his human victims, and the news latched on to the mayor’s preference for protecting Xandrite rapists over their rape victims. His poll numbers plummeted.

Piccolo tried not to stare at his phone every second he wasn’t with his children or fucking Vegeta, but the constant pendulum swing of the news was traumatic. Unbeknownst to Vegeta or his lawyers, the photos of Piccolo wound up on the news and the rioting ramped back up. The city fell back into chaos and life came to a standstill as Saiyans demanded a general strike, with Nameks already shutting their groceries’ doors to anyone anti-alien.

Piccolo, aside from the terror and uncertainty of Vegeta’s trial, was sicker and more miserable with his second pregnancy. Dende pleaded with him to ignore the news or risk miscarriage. Vegeta took his phone away on the seventh day and forbade anyone in the flat from discussing developments in the city after Piccolo had a bout of terrible cramping when he found the horrible photos on the front page of popular news site. 

Piccolo hated how utterly dependent he was on Vegeta for comfort. Piccolo couldn’t bear anything more than a few minutes without his _atheanna_. Vegeta did his best, but Piccolo knew his little mate was stressed too.

As with his first pregnancy, Piccolo’s labor came on with terrible strength and speed on the afternoon of the thirteenth day and this time Piccolo could feel the wrenching, tearing dilation of his _theadur_ happening too fast. His body shuddered with agony as Vegeta stayed inside him until they both knew it wasn’t helping at all.

Dende examined Piccolo as he screamed through ceaseless, brutal contractions. Dende said, “Piccolo, you need to control your pushing. Your body is rushing everything and you’ll hurt yourself if you let it get the best of you. You have to deny the urge until you’re ready. I’ll monitor you, but do not push!”

Piccolo’s skin streamed sweat and his muscles quivered as his womb fought to evict its tenant too fast. He quaked and Dende cried, “No! No pushing yet, Piccolo!” Piccolo’s body tensed in preparation. 

Dende turned to Vegeta and said, “Vegeta, you need, oh gods, forgive my crass directive, but I believe you need to penetrate him anally. His labor is out of control and an orgasm might relax him some and distract his muscles from trying to push.”

Piccolo hissed, “I can’t possibly fucking _come_ like this, Dende!”

Vegeta growled, “You know I can’t turn down a challenge like that, love. Leave us, Dende, I won’t let him push.”

Piccolo panted and screamed and held steady through another nearly undeniable urge to push. “Vegeta, I…I can’t. I don’t feel even a little bit sexy.”

But Vegeta kissed him and stroked his cock and soon his fingers were stretching Piccolo, brushing his p-spot with just enough pressure that Piccolo did have _less_ of an urge to push. Vegeta purred in his ear, “Do you think you can resist _my_ cock, _minaiya_? When have I ever left you unsatisfied?”

“Vegeta…” Piccolo groaned as Vegeta put him up on all fours and thrust into him from behind, his clean hand fingering Piccolo’s sheath as he began pumping into Piccolo’s ass. Piccolo felt such a confusing mix of arousal and pain that he didn’t know what was happening to him. Vegeta fingered him deeper as he sank up to the hilt in Piccolo’s very tense ass, almost hurting him, but instead feeling so amazing that Piccolo couldn’t speak, but only grunted and groaned liked an animal.

“Vegeta…I don’t think…” Piccolo tried to protest.

“Shush. Don’t think. Take what I give you and give me your pleasure,” Vegeta growled, thrusting deeper, “Your pleasure is _mine_. You _will_ give your mate your pleasure.”

Piccolo, as was so often the case, found Vegeta possessively bossing him around in bed to be very hot. Another brutal urge to push swelled in Piccolo’s body, but Vegeta met it by pushing his whole fist into Piccolo’s sheath. Piccolo bellowed and arched his back as an intense orgasm exploded ahead of the urge and triumphed, turning Piccolo into a twitching, seizing, cum-spraying puddle of desire. He slammed his ass onto Vegeta’s cock so wantonly that it almost made Piccolo laugh.

Vegeta’s mouth found Piccolo’s mating mark and hissed, “Come on my prick, love.”

Piccolo’s chimera of pleasure and pain remained just on the side of pleasure and Piccolo came hard again. Vegeta stilled Piccolo with another fierce bite and bruising grip on his hips as he released his seed in Piccolo’s core.

Piccolo moaned with relief as his womb seemed temporarily addled by Vegeta’s lust-driven assault on Piccolo’s body. Piccolo gasped for air. Vegeta gave another low warning growl as Piccolo started to pull off his mate. Vegeta arched his back to thrust viciously into Piccolo a few more times and came inside Piccolo again, causing cum to slide out of him and down his thighs.

Before Piccolo’s cock went soft, Vegeta’s fist worked into Piccolo’s sheath again. Piccolo breathed, “Sexy…I can’t…I can’t…”

The beast inside Vegeta had taken over though, and he reached deeper inside Piccolo, touching nerves that were only available in labor, as his _theadur_ strained to open. The euphoria knocked the wind out of Piccolo. He ached to be touched more in that place, so deep and intimate, that his breathy cries escalated to pleading.

Vegeta eased out of his ass and sprinted to the bathroom.

Piccolo wept at the burning emptiness he felt, but also the avalanche of pain that roared with one demand: _push, push, push, push, push._

Vegeta’s cock washed clean, he moved behind Piccolo again and snarled, “I’m going to fuck your sheath, love.”

“Yeah, now, gods, Vegeta, I can’t—“ and Piccolo’s own groan cut him off as he succumbed to the urge to push.

Vegeta slammed his prick inside Piccolo, adding counter-pressure and small relief. The secret nerves were electric for Vegeta’s touch. They sang for Piccolo’s mate’s skin, for his seed, and Piccolo trembled, knowing that the climax Vegeta was going to wring out of his tortured body was something new and unique. Maybe a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Vegeta bashed into him, feral roars and growls turning Piccolo on even in his agony. Piccolo yelped as he felt Vegeta’s dick _grow_ , not harden more, but actually grow, and it got harder too. The new length and girth allowed Vegeta’s cock to hammer the virgin nerves. Piccolo’s body transformed into an obliterated haze of pleasure. He came so hard that even though it was a _theadur_ orgasm, cum poured out of him, his body vibrating it shook so hard.

Vegeta’s teeth were in Piccolo again, his seed filling Piccolo’s sheath, and each pulse elicited a satisfied, purring growl. The animal sounds shivered down Piccolo’s spine into his loins. He felt mated to Vegeta on entirely different level now as they continued to come together. Piccolo’s _theadur_ opened completely. It throbbed pleasantly, and hungered for Vegeta’s semen.

Vegeta’s prick answered its call and Vegeta tucked his ass to find the final millimeters of length to touch the very center of Piccolo’s being. A second, almost unbearable orgasm thundered through Piccolo’s body, but the urge to push followed in its wake like an echo. Piccolo panted through the intense sensation and gasped, “I need to push, Vegeta!”

“Push, love, push and you’ll come again!”

“What?” Piccolo asked, bewildered, but didn’t wait for an answer. He relented to his body’s desire and bore down. Every new nerve-ending Vegeta had found went into overdrive as they slid along the rigid, cum-slick length of Vegeta’s cock and back up again. Euphoria and ecstasy exploded in Piccolo’s body.

Vegeta growled, “Again!”

Piccolo pushed and renewed pleasure seared his nerves.

“Again!” Vegeta rasped, slapping Piccolo’s ass hard, causing another reverberating shockwave of pleasure.

Piccolo continued in the strange rapture-agony cycle of coming and pushing until Vegeta withdrew. Piccolo whimpered: he needed Vegeta to get through this. But before he could protest, Vegeta’s hand was inside him and he said, “You’re doing it, love, I can feel the egg descending.”

Vegeta worked Piccolo mercilessly until there was no space left for his hand because the egg filled it. Vegeta commanded, “Finish it, Piccolo!” Piccolo heaved a final time and Vegeta caught the egg, wrapped it in blankets, and pressed his mouth to Piccolo’s sheath.

Confused pleasure pulsed through Piccolo until Vegeta drove inside him again, making them both groan. They clung to one another, quaking at the intensity of the pleasure as Piccolo’s stretched, exhausted body vacillated between putting its energy toward reshaping itself or getting more of the delicious pleasure only Vegeta’s cock could give it.

“Vegeta, you know we aren’t—ah!—we aren’t—ah! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Yes! Oh fuck! We aren’t supposed to do this!”

“I _need_ you, Piccolo! I need it. I need to come inside you one last time. To touch that place. Even now I can feel that place hiding away, retracting. Please, love, push, push one more time so I can feel it!”

Piccolo obeyed. Without the background pain of labor, the pleasure was so intense that Piccolo couldn’t stop screaming and pushing. Vegeta’s cock coated that hidden part of himself in cum. They wailed together and Piccolo wanted more, but the secret nerves were gone, coiled back inside him and unreachable so quickly that Piccolo wept.

Vegeta stayed deep inside Piccolo and braced him up on all fours as his stomach contracted and shrank back to normal. Piccolo gave one last monstrous push and he and Vegeta both got the faintest taste of the hidden pleasure before it disappeared completely.

Vegeta whimpered behind him, thrusting hard and deep. Piccolo felt his mate’s pent up distress, so he arched and pushed, and Vegeta gave a relieved gasp and spurted inside Piccolo. Vegeta crumpled bonelessly on Piccolo as they both tried to recover.

Vegeta pulled out of him and they fell onto the bed facing each other. They stared into one another’s eyes. Piccolo whispered, “What the fuck just happened?”

A knock came at the door. “Is everything…okay?” Dende asked, but didn’t open the door.

Piccolo threw the sheet over their lower bodies and called, “Yeah, it’s out. Come on in.”

Dende warily stepped into the bedroom. He checked the egg and said, his eyes cutting nervously to Vegeta, “May I check your _theadur_?”

“Yeah. Sorry it’s probably a cum-filled mess.”

“Ah, well, the egg likely pushed most of it out,” Dende said, getting out his tools.

Vegeta, prostrate, said, “No. I fucked him afterwards. It was…undeniable. I had to have him open like that. I hope he’s okay. I…I couldn’t stop myself.”

Dende’s eyes widened. “Oh dear, you two will be…inseparable…now. _Theadurs_ have powerful magic that you likely just discovered, Vegeta.”

Vegeta pushed himself up into a seated position, moving like a man who’d been badly beaten. “What do you mean?”

Dende sighed. “Mating—becoming _atheanna_ —is common and normal and basically any couple can do that, barring any anatomical complications or…or rape. It is a powerful bond, but not unbreakable, just as tail-twining is for Saiyans. But as Vegeta likely knows and did not share, a mating mark, a claim, is irreversible. Vegeta will waste away without you, Piccolo. And now, what you’ve done is become _atheanulikora_ , a much more profound, unbreakable bond. You’ll die without Vegeta now. One reason sex is prohibited for Nameks after birth is to avoid such magic bonds being entered into unknowingly.” Dende looked distressed as his eyes moved between Piccolo and Vegeta.

Piccolo kissed Vegeta and said, staring into Vegeta’s eyes, “I’m glad. I wanted it.”

“Me too, love,” Vegeta purred and kissed Piccolo again.

Dende said, “Well, at least you’re both pleased with the arrangement. Now let me examine you and leave you in peace.”

* * *

The days of Vegeta’s trial showed Piccolo how very bonded they now were. He could feel what Vegeta felt, and by the end of the day, his body’s need for Vegeta, his mate, was physically painful.

Vegeta’s need was no less devastating. He would arrive home almost in tears as he rushed to hold Piccolo and kiss him before tossing each of the triplets in the air before snuggling them in a family hug. They had to spend the rest of the evening with some kind of contact, even if it was only their thighs touching beneath the table during dinner, or their fingers twined as they went about their evening routines.

The trial dragged on and on, even though no evidence was produced. Even the supposed witness recanted after a large cash deposit was discovered in his bank account, made only days before he “came forward.”

Piccolo’s nightmares were nonstop, despite Vegeta’s comforting presence. The touch of his mate always helped, but to Piccolo, the nightmares felt like harbingers of doom.

At last the day came when the verdict would be rendered. Piccolo and the triplets, and what seemed like most of the Saiyan and Namek community, got into their finest suits and packed the court and the hallways and the streets. It wasn’t a subtle message about how they would take a guilty verdict, but Saiyans were not known for their subtlety. 

Piccolo knew in the knotted, nauseous, churning pit of his stomach that the verdict would be guilty, despite that show of Saiyan force. The jury was all humans and Xandrites with the exception of one lone Namek, who was a member of a very conservative anti-miscegenation sect. He looked at Piccolo with disgust, sneering at Piccolo and Vegeta’s beautiful babies as though they were vermin.

When the Zarbon-doppelgänger Xandrite announced, “Guilty of pre-meditated murder,” the courtroom erupted in mayhem until Vegeta held up his hand and stilled his people. The Nameks looked to Piccolo who gave a minute nod, waiting to see what Vegeta would do.

Piccolo’s tears were unstoppable, though, and the triplets began to wail. Vegeta turned to Piccolo, ignoring everyone but Piccolo, and said, “I’ll be with you soon. I’ll do anything to get back to you. Don’t despair, love. Be strong.”

The judge seemed disgusted and flabbergasted by the verdict. He called it a grave miscarriage of justice and handed down the minimum sentence: twelve years. Piccolo shook and tried not to lose his composure even more, but twelve years apart was a death sentence for both he and Vegeta. Even a year away from his mate would likely be a death sentence for Piccolo, all because he’d been raped by someone who favored pictures as trophies.

Vegeta’s lawyer immediately appealed the verdict and the judge set a date for the appeal, citing fatherhood as a reason to speed things along. But in the meantime, Vegeta would be in prison for the two weeks until the appeal.

Piccolo touched Vegeta until the very last possible moment, trying to store up that touch to carry him through until the next time they would be able to touch. When the bailiff took Vegeta away, Piccolo felt as if his skeleton was being torn out of his body. Broly kept Piccolo upright as he collapsed in anguished sobs, Dende and Bulma barely holding the triplets as they snarled and lunged for the bailiff.


	13. Little Flower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The alien sex commences in earnest in this chapter. I don't know how my brain comes up with these things, lol, but I think it's hot, so keep an open mind. Thanks for reading!

The mayor put the final nail in the city’s coffin when he appointed the former, corrupt judge to Vegeta's appeal. Full blown riots erupted across the city and two banks leaked information showing payments from one of the mayor’s shell corporations to several jury members. That led to the discovery of illegal communication between the police and the jurors. The mayor denied everything and ordered in the state militia to try to subdue the rioting.

When protesting continued, the Saiyans agreed to a temporary truce if Internal Affairs got involved. The police chief agreed, and IA discovered both detectives were enthusiastic members of a human-supremacy organization and had actively participated in rallies against cross-species marriage, particularly with Saiyans, as their hybrids tended to be even stronger.  With all the skeletons falling out of the city’s closet, Piccolo hoped Vegeta would be home before the week was out. But the mayor doubled down rather than change course, and declared a state of emergency, which halted all court proceedings and allowed unlimited force against protestors. 

At first it seemed to work, but Broly and Raditz came by after the first few riot-free days to tell Piccolo not to leave the flat under any circumstances. Piccolo understood that the brief respite for the mayor was only the calm before a terrible, Saiyan storm.

By the end of the week, Saiyan ex-Galactic Special Forces, led by Broly, had taken the city with minimal bloodshed. They called for a special election after revealing the mayor’s numerous, lucrative, and mostly illegal, dealings with the Xandrites. The Saiyan rulers of the city decreed that all civil services resume, including trials. Piccolo was too stressed and scared to eat. He’d lost a lot of weight since Vegeta’s incarceration, and he knew that Vegeta had too. He could feel Vegeta’s distress in his bones, like a constant, unpleasant hum. They were both tired and weak, frayed to their last threads.

It had been almost a month when the appeal declared Vegeta’s case an egregious mistrial and released him. Broly brought him home and Piccolo squeezed Vegeta so tightly he worried he would hurt his little mate. The triplets raced to scamper up onto their Hoppi. Piccolo kissed his _atheanulikora_ at last and groaned with the relief of it.

Vegeta held Piccolo a long time, breathing against Piccolo’s skin, and Piccolo felt the effort Vegeta expended not to cry. Broly stayed to guard the flat, but made himself scarce as they spent the day cuddling together with the triplets and their egg, never losing contact with each other, and feeling better with every second that they touched one another.

That evening, Piccolo shook as he waited for Vegeta to finish putting the triplets to bed. Even the thought of having Vegeta naked in his arms again was making him pant and sweat. Piccolo made a lame attempt at reading while he waited.

Piccolo was up and on Vegeta before the door clicked shut, tears streaming down his cheeks as he bent to kiss his mate. He lifted Vegeta up onto his hips to kiss him more thoroughly, cupping Vegeta’s perfect ass in his hands.

Vegeta gasped, “Piccolo. _Minaiya_ , oh gods, love of my life, how I missed you.”

“Did you do it, Vegeta?” Piccolo asked, breaking their kiss and staring into Vegeta’s eyes.

Vegeta gazed unflinching into his eyes and said, “Of course, love, but I committed no crime.”

Piccolo’s heart fluttered. He didn’t know what to make of that information, but his body didn’t care. “I need to fuck you, Vegeta. I need it so badly. Please, I need it now,” Piccolo rasped, kissing Vegeta more, his tongue sliding into his mate’s mouth, tasting him, aching for him, and groaning as Vegeta’s tongue met his, dove into his mouth in turn.

Vegeta tore off their clothes and they climbed onto the bed together. Piccolo kissed and caressed Vegeta, who fell onto his back, spreading his legs wide. He pulled Piccolo down to kiss him. Piccolo loved that Vegeta, who was far more dominant in bed than Piccolo, gave this to Piccolo, let him top as their first sex in weeks.

Piccolo pulled out of the kiss and lifted Vegeta’s hips. He bent his head and slid his tongue over Vegeta’s pucker, swirled his tongue over every inch, every nerve, before he pushed his tongue inside Vegeta. Vegeta groaned and Piccolo slid his tongue up Vegeta’s taint. Piccolo wanted to worship this part of Vegeta that brought Piccolo such pleasure.

Vegeta was more vocal than usual as Piccolo’s tongue returned to his opening, plundered it, kissed it, delved inside again. Piccolo licked Vegeta until he was soaked, then slathered his fingers with saliva and curled two inside his mate.

Vegeta tilted his hips to take Piccolo’s fingers deeper. He gasped and clutched for Piccolo’s free hand, which he put on his cock and breathed, “Please, Piccolo, please…”

Piccolo twisted his hand up to Vegeta’s tip, brushed his thumb over Vegeta’s pre-cum sopping slit. He used the ridges of his fingers to rub around Vegeta’s sensitive head. 

Vegeta gasped, “I need you inside me, love.” He grabbed Piccolo’s hips and urged him forward.

“Yeah, I think you do, sexy,” Piccolo whispered, kissing Vegeta, sucking his tongue and his lips, and he lubed himself after removing his fingers. “You’re mine, Vegeta. My mate. My _atheanulikora_.” Piccolo breathed as he plunged into Vegeta. “ _Oon soqve ya vku-minai, jaival ren vku-rulvek, amana ren vku-colfti. Vku-tseeka, vku-sot, vku-aiya._ ” _You’re the beat of my heart, the breath of my lungs, the blood in my veins. My mate, my only, my soul._

Vegeta’s eyes snapped open and filled with tears. He murmured, “ _Oon peek tol vku-ginai, lomak ren vku-tokle, petrik tol vku-quvla._ _Vku-tseeka, vku-sot, vku-aiya._ ” _You are the sun on my skin, the wind in my hair, and the rain on my tongue. My mate, my only, my soul._

One evening during Vegeta’s time in prison, Broly taught Piccolo the words of a traditional Saiyan mating vow. It was typically done in public before the mating occurred, but Broly told Piccolo it was also spoken after long separations and that Vegeta would be touched. Piccolo wanted Vegeta to know they belonged together. That Piccolo was irrevocably Vegeta’s. That only death would part them. That Vegeta was Piccolo’s everything.

Vegeta came quickly but clung to Piccolo and held Piccolo inside him even after Piccolo came. “Stay inside me,” Vegeta groaned.

“As long as you need, Vegeta,” Piccolo said, breathing deeply of Vegeta’s smell. Taking comfort in their whole bodies pressed together.

“It was awful without you. Without the babies,” Vegeta said, his voice choked and thick.

“Oh, Vegeta, I can’t even imagine. I was a wreck and I was at home with them for comfort. With our bed so I could smell you.”

“It’s so good to be back in your arms, love,” Vegeta said and kissed Piccolo tenderly. “I would have escaped if I thought the situation wouldn’t resolve relatively quickly, but I wanted my name cleared if possible. I want to put all of this nonsense behind us. Zarbon has taken so much from you already. Now we can just focus on your next season. And the triplets. And the hatchling…”

Vegeta pushed Piccolo onto his back, Piccolo’s cock slipping out of Vegeta. Vegeta ran a hand over Piccolo’s belly and kissed in its wake as he purred, “Focus on putting another baby in you…Maybe after this last labor you won’t be so quick to deny me.”

“A couple hours of insanely good sex is not a good reason to have a child,” Piccolo said with a little laugh.

“Maybe there’s some kind of drug that can open you up like that, love. My cock hungers for that secret part of you,” Vegeta whispered.

“I can run it by Dende, but he’ll probably die of a stroke,” Piccolo said with a chuckle.

Vegeta slid two fingers inside Piccolo’s sheath and took Piccolo’s prick in his other hand, moving both hands in sync. Piccolo squirmed with pleasure, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted Vegeta’s cock inside him.

Vegeta took his time, brought Piccolo up slowly, kissing him and murmuring in his ear, withdrawing when Piccolo was close. Piccolo begged and Vegeta teased him as he traced Piccolo’s nipples with his tongue. He grazed his teeth over Piccolo’s pecs to get to the other nipple.

“Sexy, please, finish me or fuck me. Do you know how badly I’ve missed your prick? Please, please, Vegeta!”

Vegeta growled and curled over Piccolo as he thrust deep inside his _theadur_. Vegeta threw his head back and cried out. Piccolo sat up to nip at his throat, purring, “Thank you, sexy, gods, your cock in me is heaven.”

Vegeta braced himself over Piccolo and rolled his hips slowly at first, but quickly gave in to the frantic desire Piccolo saw in his eyes. He slammed into Piccolo and Piccolo wished he could give Vegeta access to those secret, euphoric nerves.

Piccolo experimented with pushing as he pushed during a contraction, but it only added pressure. It felt good, but it couldn’t match that unearthly pleasure they’d found during Piccolo’s second labor.

Vegeta gasped, “Try again. Please. Try harder.”

Piccolo startled. He didn’t mean for Vegeta to know he was trying. Piccolo focused on Vegeta’s face, on his intense love for his mate, his unquenchable lust, and he pushed. This time he felt a tiny unfurling inside himself. Vegeta whimpered and held himself deep inside Piccolo. It was the barest taste, a faint whiff of what they’d made happen while Piccolo gave birth, but it encouraged Piccolo. Perhaps it was like a muscle and if he worked it, he could make it do more.

“More. Again,” Vegeta growled against Piccolo’s skin, and pulsed inside Piccolo.

Piccolo tried a more emotional approach, remembering exactly how he’d felt as he had opened up that way, the touch of Vegeta’s cock and then his fingers on that secret place. Piccolo focused until he was panting with the memory, then he pushed again.

The thing blossomed inside Piccolo, like a tight flower bud unfurling its soft, nerve-filled petals to brush Vegeta’s prick. Vegeta shuddered and his cock answered the petals as he grew again—lengthened, hardened, broadened—until he filled the center of the flower inside Piccolo. The sensitive petals curled around Vegeta’s head.

A strangled noise of pleasure escaped Piccolo: it was so difficult to stay open and unfurled in that way, but worth every incredible second. “Come against it,” Piccolo gasped. Vegeta met his eyes and his mouth fell open as they both shook with the shattering pleasure of Vegeta’s seed nourishing whatever the flower inside Piccolo was. It thirsted for Vegeta’s cum and now it seemed to understand that it could only get it if Piccolo brought it out, it felt more…cooperative.

Vegeta choked out, “I want it again!” He kissed Piccolo savagely, pushed his legs wider apart, and reseated himself in Piccolo’s sheath. He arched up into the place where the unfurling bundle of pleasure had revealed itself.

“I’ll try…” Piccolo groaned and he centered his mind on the thing inside himself, the deep, animal part of himself that held sway over so much pleasure. Piccolo felt it shake and tremble its way forth this time. He pushed it harder, wanting to know exactly how much of it could coil around Vegeta’s cock.

Vegeta gasped and strained and pleaded as the first tender petals brushed Piccolo’s mate. As if emerging after being frightened, which Piccolo supposed was essentially what happened, even if it liked the result, it burst forward again. This time it ran every bit of itself over every bit of Vegeta’s perfect cock that it could reach. It wrapped tightly around his head and Vegeta gazed into Piccolo’s eyes, his own pupils expanding. Vegeta bent to Piccolo’s lips and took them with a passionate kiss. As Vegeta’s tongue slid into Piccolo’s mouth, the petals responded, twisting on Vegeta, kissing his prick.

Piccolo shook with the effort and Vegeta did too. They clung to the high as long as possible, until the petals took and took and took from Vegeta. Vegeta groaned and hit it so hard that Piccolo felt himself shatter into a million points of light and pleasure.

They came together in an exhausting surge of connection. Vegeta held Piccolo’s face and whispered, “You’re mine, my only. My love,” and kissed him more. Their bodies convulsed through the last throes of a joint orgasm, like they were one body, and Piccolo assumed it was something they could only achieve through the magic of this new thing inside himself.

After they caught their breath, Vegeta began to ease out of Piccolo, but Piccolo grabbed his ass and cried, “No! Not yet! I’m not ready yet!”

Vegeta kissed all over Piccolo’s neck and jaw and chest before kissing his mouth again. Piccolo pulled away after a long moment and whispered, “Okay. I can handle it now.”

Vegeta pulled out and let out a yelp of surprise. Bright red blood coated him. “Shit! Piccolo! Are you okay? Oh, gods, did I hurt you?”

“I think I’m okay?” Piccolo said, uncertain, and dabbed at his _theadur._ Some blood leaked out of him, mixed with cum. “I guess maybe I better talk to Dende, even if will make him turn maroon.”

They showered and no more blood came out of him, but Vegeta wouldn’t touch him or fuck him anymore, so they went to bed early.

Vegeta dropped off to sleep immediately, but Piccolo tossed and turned. He knew Vegeta meant well by rebuffing Piccolo’s advances, but it made Piccolo feel raw and hurt. He needed Vegeta after such a strange and unsettling, if euphoric, experience. Yet Vegeta’s exhaustion was palpable, like a caul draped over Piccolo’s little mate. But none of that changed Piccolo’s feeling hurt.

When dawn found him still awake, he brushed his lips over Vegeta’s brow and slipped silently out of bed, up before the children for once, only because he’d never slept. He texted Dende to please call him whenever Dende was up and had a few minutes to talk about a private Namekian matter. Piccolo sat on their balcony overlooking the bay and the quiet, early calm of the city. He drank his tea and tried to untangle his feelings.

Brola came out and climbed on his lap, nuzzling in like she was nursing. She still found comfort in the position, especially in the early mornings and before bed. “Hoppi sleeping?” Brola mumbled.

“Yeah, and he’s tired, so let’s let him sleep, okay?”

“I go snuggle?”

“Can you be really quiet so you don’t wake him?”

She hopped down and dramatically tip-toed so Piccolo had to stifle his laughter until she was out of earshot. Vela and Peta were up and into something, Piccolo could hear the tell-tale sound of the two trying not to giggle. Upon peeking in their room, he saw they were absent. He followed the sound and found them in Broly’s room. They were both putting on Broly’s enormous shirts, having stripped off their jammies and “folded” them to put them in Broly’s drawers. Broly cracked an eye and winked at Piccolo, so Piccolo left them to their mischief.

Piccolo crept back into bed where Vegeta held Brola curled against him. Piccolo wrapped himself around Vegeta’s other side. Vegeta stirred but stayed asleep and Piccolo was glad. He didn’t want Vegeta to see the shadow of hurt that lingered from the night before.

Dende called minutes later, so Piccolo slipped back out onto the balcony, shutting the door and walking all the way to the railing. He explained what had happened the night before as best he could.

Dende was quiet for a while before he said, “No, I don’t think he harmed you, at least not physically. I believed you’ve just developed some control of the _cienula_ , the small organ at the end of your _theadur_ that funnels semen up to your womb. The base of it contains the receptor that had the calcium deposit, which is why it’s so painful to have it removed, there are many, many nerves there. The blood is likely because it’s all very delicate tissue and if Vegeta was…aggressive…in his lovemaking, he may have damaged some of the vessels. But it’s also resilient tissue. The euphoria and sensitivity are a result of the nerve density. I imagine your new bond is what allows you to do this. You sound upset, Piccolo. Did…did Vegeta force this?”

“What? No, gods, no. I just…having him back was intense anyway, and then that happened and once he saw the blood he wouldn’t touch me anymore and it…um…it hurt my feelings, I guess. It seemed so special to me and he just treated it like it was no big deal.”

“I can certainly understand your feelings, Piccolo, but I believe it was out of concern, not out a dismissal of the sacredness of the act. And…he has been through a challenging ordeal.”

“I know. I do. It just still…” Piccolo realized with horror he was going to cry.

“Oh, Piccolo. It is a very intense joining as I’ve read. I’ve never experienced it and I’ve never met anyone who has, but it’s fair that you feel that way. I only encourage you to try to forgive him, to see his side.”

Tears escaped Piccolo’s eyes and he said, “Yeah, I know you’re right. Sorry. You’re right.”

Piccolo heard a tussle and then Bulma was on the phone, Dende protesting in the background, “Picc? Sweetie? What’s wrong? Did he hurt you? I heard ‘blood!’”

“No, no, nothing like that. Gods, Bulma, Vegeta would never hurt me.”

“Okay. Good. But you sound like you’ve been crying? Why are you crying?”

“I’m fine. Just…Nothing. Just being an idiot,” Piccolo said and swiped at his eyes.

Vegeta came out with a dozing Brola in the crook of his elbow. He kissed Piccolo, his face warping with concern as Piccolo tried to hide his tears. Piccolo bid Bulma a hasty farewell and rubbed at his eyes, tried to play it off as though he had gotten something in them.

Vegeta was unconvinced. He searched Piccolo’s eyes and caressed his cheek. He whispered, so as not to wake Brola, “What’s wrong, love?”

“Nothing, just being emotional.”

“You’re a shit liar, is what you’re being,” Vegeta said with a smirk and kissed Piccolo more. “Don’t hide from me, _minaiya_.”

Piccolo shook his head. “No, really, I was just talking to Dende about, um, about last night and I got a little, you know, weepy. It was intense, right?”

“It was extremely intense, love. Are you okay? I was so worried about you, but also so tired. I barely slept while we were apart. What did Dende say?”

“Oh, right. Yeah, he said he’s only read about it, but that it’s fine. It’s just delicate tissue, hence the blood.”

Brola awkwardly flopped toward Piccolo, pulling herself into his arms. He kissed her forehead. Vegeta said, “Are you sure you’re alright, love?”

Piccolo nodded and kissed his little mate, wanting the conversation to end. Vegeta held Piccolo’s face gently and murmured, “Gods, I missed you so much, Piccolo.”

“I missed you too, sexy. So much. I was so scared.”

“I know. I won’t leave you again,” Vegeta said, kissing Piccolo more.

They made breakfast together and Broly came out trying to put on one of the triplet’s jammie shirts, pretending he really thought it was his. Vela and Peta followed behind him, his shirts completely engulfing their tiny bodies as they laughed and tripped after him.

Broly kissed Vegeta’s cheek, then Piccolo’s, which would likely never cease to amuse Piccolo. It also made Piccolo wonder every time if Broly was still interested in a three-way. Broly and Cabba were on-again-off-again, so Piccolo thought maybe it depended day to day on when the big man had last gotten laid. Broly had mostly lived with them since Piccolo’s first pregnancy and Piccolo thought Broly would probably live with them forever, even if he found a mate and had his own babies.

“I’ll take the babies out today, give you two some quality time to bond with each other and the new egg, yeah, ‘Geta?” Broly said, devouring breakfast and feeding the triplets all in one dizzying storm of ingestion.

"You sure, Broly?” Piccolo asked, “You did so much with them while Vegeta was away.”

Broly waved his big hand dismissively. “I love hanging out with the little hellions. Plus I have a new guy I’m chatting up at the coffee shop near the park. I’m done messing around with Cabba. This new guy wants a family, so they help me…catch his eye.”

Vegeta chortled. “Yes, because you’re so inconspicuous.”

“Hey, don’t judge, ‘Geta. All happily mated with babies and leaving your poor Broly all alone.”

Vegeta slapped Broly’s ass and said, “Go on, go use my children as mate-bait. What do you tell him? That you enjoy spending time with your ex’s children?”

Broly looked affronted. “The truth—that I’m their uncle!”

Vegeta laughed more. “Go on, get out there, big guy.”

“No sympathy,” Broly said, but he commanded the children in Saiyan and the chaos of getting three baby Saimekians out of the flat commenced with the attendant growling, swishing of tails, and biting.

The minute the door clicked shut behind them, Vegeta threw Piccolo over his shoulder and carried him to their bedroom. He tossed Piccolo on the bed and climbed above him. Vegeta pinned Piccolo’s hands above his head and growled, “Are you ready to stop lying to me, love?”

“I’m not—“

“Yes, you are. Why were you crying to Dende? Did you even sleep last night? Did I hurt you with what we did?”

“No! I’m fine. He said it’s fine. Look, it was stupid. I’m really fine, sexy. Just leave it, okay?”

“What did I do to upset you? I thought last night was amazing?” Vegeta looked so hurt that Piccolo felt terrible.

“It’s…Okay, I want to make really clear that I’m not mad, I know it’s stupid, okay? I just felt a little…raw, you know, emotionally…when you wouldn’t…wouldn’t touch me after what we did last night. That was really intense. It, um, it just hurt my feelings that you wouldn’t touch me afterwards. I felt shitty. But I know you were only worried. So I know it’s dumb, which is why I didn’t want to tell you.” Piccolo hesitantly looked up and met Vegeta’s eyes, expecting them to be exasperated.

But they were worried. Soft. He kissed Piccolo. “I’m sorry, love. It’s not stupid. I…I thought you were upset last night, but I was exhausted and I thought it was about me going to prison, not about me not touching you afterwards. I was too tired to deal with your anger about prison, so I just…went to sleep. Which was childish, regardless, so I’m sorry. I never want you to feel upset or hurt after we make love, or at all, but especially not then. I’m sorry, love.”

“Vegeta,” Piccolo said, his eyebrows crashing together, “Why would I be angry about you going to prison? It’s not like you had a say.”

“You’re not mad that I left you alone for weeks on end?”

“What?! No! Of course not. I’m fucking grateful for…for what you did. So we could mate. So we could be soul-bonded. I was sad and lonely and terrified, but never mad. Never that. Gods, Vegeta, I’m sorry you thought you’d come home to my anger.”

Vegeta’s eyebrows formed a sad little peak and he kissed Piccolo. “You’re so good to me, love. But if…if you need something from me like that, like you needed last night, please tell me. I thought you only asked to do more to ease my worry. I thought you were catering to me.”

Piccolo shook his head. Vegeta kissed him more. Piccolo pulled back breathlessly and said, “Just…if we do that again, I need something less intense as a come down, you know? The bodily sensation of what we did was mind-blowing, but…but…you got pretty…demanding…while we went at it. And it’s taxing to do, and it was so new and overwhelming. So when you wouldn’t even give me a hand-job afterwards, I felt used. Like it meant nothing to you.”

“Oh, love, I’m so sorry. I did lose myself in it. Lost control of myself. We need a name for it.”

Piccolo grinned and said, “It feels like a flower opening inside me, so maybe we should call it flower-fucking?”

Vegeta smirked and reached inside Piccolo’s pants, grazed his fingertips along Piccolo’s slit, and whispered, “Does that make me your honeybee?”

Piccolo murmured, kissing Vegeta, “You are my honeybee. But…I…I don’t think I can do that every time. Is that…is that okay?”

“Of course, love. It’s a little insane for me, honestly. It’s like I’m not myself, or I’m _only_ my animal self, and not the wound-licking, caring side of my animal self, the other one.”

“It’s pretty hot,” Piccolo said, his hips rocking up to meet Vegeta’s touch.

“Good. But not every time,” Vegeta said.

Piccolo nodded, but said, feeling sheepish, “But maybe…since we have the whole day without the kids…”

Vegeta yanked off Piccolo’s pants and pressed his mouth against Piccolo’s sheath. He slid his tongue aggressively inside Piccolo, lapping at the soft velvet interior before murmuring, “Gods, I wish I could get my mouth to your flower.”

“Fuck, Vegeta, that would be amazing, but it only wants cock. Like _really_ wants cock.”

Vegeta hummed. “I don’t want to disappoint your little flower, but maybe it won’t mind if I eat you out a little?”

Piccolo writhed against Vegeta and gasped, “I don’t fucking care, because I need your mouth on me, sexy. I’ve missed your mouth on me.”

Piccolo normally felt vaguely guilty letting Vegeta go down on him until completion, but despite knowing his hurt from the night before wasn’t justified, Vegeta worshipping Piccolo with his mouth was soothing. Piccolo let Vegeta eat him out and tried to relax into the pleasure of it.

Vegeta thrust his tongue deeper inside Piccolo’s sheath before running it around the entrance, waking up all Piccolo’s sensitive nerves. Vegeta pulled off to whisper, “Can I slip a finger in your ass, love?”

Piccolo laughed and breathed, “More than one, if you’re willing.”

“Oh yes, my heart, I’m very willing and eager. I ache for your pleasure. I’m sorry I didn’t bring you down last night.”

“It’s okay, Vegeta. I’m just so glad you’re home. I missed you so badly. I was so scared, sexy.”

“I missed you too, _minaiya._ I missed this,” Vegeta growled and spread his tongue wide over the entrance to Piccolo’s sheath, dragging it up and down until Piccolo squirmed. Only then did he push two fingers inside Piccolo’s ass with teasing slowness, searching out his prostate.

Piccolo moaned as Vegeta’s tongue thrust inside him right as his fingers started to tap Piccolo’s p-spot. He curled his hips up to give Vegeta better access, wanting more. Piccolo felt like he needed some tending to after the intensity and hurt of the night before. 

Vegeta worked his prostate harder and murmured, “Fuck, love, I need to have your ass on my cock soon. You’re so fucking tight. Didn’t you touch yourself while I was away?”

“No,” Piccolo breathed.

Vegeta sat up a little, his hand ceaselessly driving Piccolo closer to a prostate orgasm. “Piccolo? You didn’t touch yourself at all?”

“I jerked off a couple times, like I do when you’re here, it’s like a part of my routine, but nothing…internal.”

“Fuck, I need to take care of you, love. That’s too long. Gods, you are going to come so many times today.”

“Vegeta…please…I need your mouth again, please?” Piccolo never asked for head, so it felt vulnerable to do so.

Vegeta looked delighted, smirking down at Piccolo as he lowered himself again. He whispered, “You do, don’t you, love? Let me taste you. Will you come on my tongue for me?” with his lips brushing Piccolo and making him pant and writhe.

Vegeta put all his oral wiles to work and even managed to edge Piccolo’s prostate orgasm so that when his _theadur_ began to seize and clench on Vegeta’s tongue, Piccolo’s cock erupted, semen bursting out of him in an almost painful orgasm. Vegeta kissed Piccolo’s slit tenderly and licked his way up Piccolo’s cum trail, growling happily, “I love making you come, Piccolo. Gods, I missed making you come.”

“Sexy, that was amazing,” Piccolo gasped for breath.

“Can I fuck your ass, _minaiya_? I just want to feel that tight grip on my cock or I won’t be able to think straight,” Vegeta whispered, kissing up Piccolo’s neck, and kissed Piccolo’s mouth as he lubed himself.

“Yes, yes, fuck, yes,” Piccolo cried and rolled over, “Mate with me.”

“Gods, you are so fucking perfect, Piccolo,” Vegeta said, gripping Piccolo’s cheeks and biting each.

“Don’t tease, Vegeta, I need you!”

Vegeta slid his deliciously hard cock inside Piccolo and Piccolo had a brief moment where he thought he might come immediately. Before Piccolo could do it himself, Vegeta wrapped an arm around Piccolo’s chest and pulled him upright. “Spread your legs, my absurdly tall mate, so I can hit it harder. Gods, you feel so good, Piccolo.”

Piccolo pushed his knees out and groaned as Vegeta pounded up into him, scratching Piccolo’s pecs. Vegeta growled praise and love in Saiyan and bit and nipped all over his back. Vegeta came hard, bellowing Piccolo’s name, and sent Piccolo spiraling into another orgasm.

“Wash your cock, honeybee, see if you can’t make me bloom,” Piccolo purred, still breathing hard from coming.

Vegeta leapt out of bed and sprinted to the bathroom. Piccolo followed, stroking Vegeta’s cock in the sink, biting his neck, and whispering Saiyan sweet nothings. Vegeta smirked at him in the mirror.

“Broly wasn’t giving you live action lessons in Saiyan bedroom talk?”

“No, my jealous honeybee, and these I’ve learned from you. I don’t think you realize how chatty you are when we fuck.”

Vegeta grinned and turned over his shoulder to kiss Piccolo, murmuring, “Maybe because you drive me out of my mind, love. My sweet flower.”

Once his dick was thoroughly washed, Vegeta spun in Piccolo’s arms and kissed him back to the bed. “What you did last night was incredible, my beautiful flower, but it’s okay if it’s too much, okay? I love your sheath just as it is.”

“Don’t doubt me, little honeybee,” Piccolo said and spread himself on the bed, beckoning to Vegeta, “come here and crawl in my petals, find my sweet nectar.”

Vegeta laughed, climbing above Piccolo, and thrust inside him, making them both gasp. “Are you ready for your honeybee to make you buzz, love?”

“Fuck yes, go so deep in me, sexy,” Piccolo groaned and clutched Vegeta’s ass.

Vegeta didn’t immediately try for the flower. He rocked into Piccolo slowly and kissed him, holding his jaw, his tongue twining sensually with Piccolo’s as his tail caressed up and down Piccolo’s thigh. “Are you sure you want to try, love?”

“Yeah, I do…but…be gentle afterwards, okay?” Piccolo said, searching Vegeta’s eyes.

“I will, _minaiya_ , my sweet flower,” Vegeta breathed. He worked his prick deeper, pushing on Piccolo’s inner thighs until he was in a split. “Take me deep, love,” he purred against Piccolo’s lips.

Piccolo nodded and kissed Vegeta for a long time. He began to focus on that internal unfurling, gasping as it happened easier this time. It wasn’t quite fully open, not quite receptive, but Vegeta shuddered and growled, “Fuck, yes, Piccolo, fuck! How can anything feel this good?”

Piccolo concentrated again and then he felt it fully open as Vegeta’s head brushed its petals. Vegeta whimpered and his cock butted against it as it opened and bloomed for him. “Patience, honeybee, patience,” Piccolo breathed, “let my flower prepare for you.”

“Fuck, yes, please, oh gods, please, _minaiya_ , open for me,” Vegeta pleaded, his voice shaking.

“I am, honeybee. I am. Feel it?”

“Fucking gods, yes, yes, Piccolo!” Vegeta said, his whole body quaking.

“Come for my little flower, take what it offers you, honeybee,” Piccolo murmured and kissed Vegeta savagely.

Vegeta kissed hard down Piccolo’s jaw and groaned into his neck, “Piccolo, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” Vegeta wailed.

Piccolo’s bliss at the brushing pressure increased tenfold as Vegeta grew into him, hardened, and then filled Piccolo’s flower with the thing it craved. Piccolo almost didn’t recognize his own voice as he cried out. Vegeta didn’t withdraw this time, not even a little. He pressed deeper and pulsed against the soft, nerve-filled petals, gasping and groaning in Saiyan.

Vegeta’s fingertips bit into Piccolo’s flesh as he growled, “Again!”

Piccolo quivered as he pushed the petals of his flower down around Vegeta’s head and they caressed and stroked his swollen, rock-hard tip. Vegeta bent and bit Piccolo, holding him still as he whimpered through another orgasm.

The flower sucked up Vegeta’s semen so hard that Piccolo could feel it funneling it into his womb. The ecstasy that ripped through Piccolo was even more powerful than the night before. Piccolo’s body felt like it merged with Vegeta’s, and maybe the universe, and they morphed into pure, throbbing sexual pleasure.

Piccolo trembled with exertion to keep his little flower open while Vegeta pulsed in its core. Sweat poured off his skin and Vegeta drove harder still against the heart of the flower and when he hissed, “More,” Piccolo felt shattered.

“I…I can’t, honeybee,” Piccolo whispered.

“For me, sweet flower, I need it,” Vegeta begged.

Piccolo let out a stuttering cry and pushed his petals around Vegeta’s cock again, the effort so thoroughly exhausting him, that he had a brief moment when he felt he would pass out.

Vegeta’s seed splattered his petals, drenched them, soaked them them inside and out and Piccolo escaped Vegeta’s bite to curl up and wrap around him. Piccolo pulled Vegeta’s cock as deep as possible, quaking, screaming, and shivering it was so intense.

His flower twisted up its petals and withdrew so quickly it felt like a cramp. Vegeta growled, “Again!” 

Piccolo shoved his shoulder and cried, “No more! I can’t, it would fucking kill me!” Piccolo was close to tears from some mix of rapture, terror, and exhaustion.

His words seemed to snap Vegeta out of his strange honeybee trance and his face crumpled. He moved to pull out and Piccolo made a sound close to a shriek.

“Love? Oh gods, love, what have I done? I’m so sorry!” Vegeta kissed his chest softly and licked the bite wounds he’d made.

“Just, fuck, just easy, Vegeta. Easy, okay? You don’t need to yank out of me like I’m on fire.”

Vegeta rocked into him gently, slowly and whispered, “Can I make love to you?”

“If you can be gentle,” Piccolo answered, his voice almost breaking.

“Of course, _minaiya_ , I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I lost control of myself.”

Piccolo contorted to bury his face in Vegeta’s neck and he wrapped his big body around his smaller mate’s. Vegeta made gentle, sweet love to him. When they came together, it was almost a relief for Piccolo that it wasn’t like the flower. Anything more at that intensity would have overwhelmed Piccolo entirely.

Vegeta eased out of him and swore. There was even more blood than the previous night.

“I’m not surprised, you were rougher and I…I opened faster, which probably causes bleeding too,” Piccolo said with a shrug.

“I don’t want to make you _bleed_ ,” Vegeta said, his face twisting into a frown.

Piccolo arched a brow and gestured to the numerous bite and scratch marks that bled, all inflicted by Vegeta that morning.

Vegeta grumped, “That’s different.”

“Vegeta, it’s crazy intense. I think blood is just a part of it.”

“Did Dende think it was safe?”

“He’s only read about it, but yes.”

Vegeta caressed Piccolo’s face, held his eyes, and said, “Are you okay? I know I got carried away.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Piccolo said, though he didn’t feel fine exactly. He didn’t know what he felt. “I…I think I’m just…a little fragile.”

Vegeta kissed him softly and carried him into their bathroom. Vegeta filled the tub, and slipped into the water with Piccolo between his legs. He pulled Piccolo back against his chest.

“Sorry I’m a downer, Vegeta.”

“No, you’re not, love. That, what you do, what your body does, is…I don’t even know. Holy, almost, it feels so amazing. And it’s a gift you give me. And in the moment, I’m so drunk on it that I’m just greedy, but it also…it feels so _powerful_ to be able to draw that out of you. That you bring your perfect, sublime flower out to bloom for me. It feels heady. So I lose it. I become a beast. I love it and I go insane,” Vegeta said, all while peppering Piccolo’s neck and shoulders with soft kisses.

“But you’re not mad that I had to call you off?”

“No! Do, please, or I’ll probably keep demanding it until we shrivel up and die. I mean it, though, are you okay?”

“Yeah. I think so. I’m pretty wiped out.”

Vegeta kissed up both sides of his neck. He whispered, “Does it…does it feel good for you?”

Piccolo wished Vegeta didn’t feel bad about something so magical. He shivered and said, “Fuck, yes. Vegeta…it’s just… _so_ good that it…it’s a lot. It’s hard too, I mean physically, but also mentally challenging, so it wears me out. Are you…are you sure it still feels good to have normal sex?”

Vegeta lunged to the side, held Piccolo’s eyes, and said, “Is _that_ what you’re distressed about? That I won’t _like_ normal _theadur_ sex anymore?”

Piccolo nodded, his eyes dropping with fear and shame.

Vegeta tipped his face up and kissed him deeply. “Fucking you any way, even just finger-fucking you, feels so amazing that I will _never_ have enough. Never. I love this new thing, but it doesn’t _replace_ anything else. I mean that, Piccolo. It’s fine if you never want to do that again.”

Piccolo curled away from Vegeta’s intense gaze.

“Piccolo, please look at me,” Vegeta murmured.

Piccolo burrowed into Vegeta’s armpit. “No,” he said, and held his breath so he could hide his face under the water.

Vegeta laughed and wrestled Piccolo until he straddled Vegeta, covering his face with his hands. Vegeta peeled his hands away and kissed him. Kissed him more after their laughter subsided. Vegeta held Piccolo’s jaw and kissed him more deeply, his tongue twisting with Piccolo’s, sucking Piccolo’s. Vegeta said against his lips, “Sorry I become an asshole when you do something so special for me.”

“It’s okay,” Piccolo whispered and kissed more. Their hips rolled together under the water. Vegeta’s hand wrapped around their pricks, stroking them together until they came, forcing them out of the cum-filled water.

They spent most of the day lounging outside together, reading and chatting, making love every so often, but Vegeta never even suggested the flower again. They took a nap, curled around their egg, and Piccolo woke as Vegeta slid inside his sheath from behind.

Piccolo groaned, bucking back toward Vegeta as Vegeta bit his trap, his fingers digging into Piccolo’s hip. Vegeta moved them until Piccolo was up on all fours, Vegeta rutting on him like a wild animal. Piccolo was so turned on by the rough coupling that he couldn’t resist bringing out his flower to meet Vegeta’s powerful, deep thrusts.

Vegeta moaned against Piccolo’s skin when he felt it and stilled inside Piccolo for a moment before pulsing as deep as he could. Vegeta’s hand slid onto Piccolo’s prick. Vegeta growled, “Gods, Piccolo, you’re so hard for me.”

It scared Piccolo that this time his flower seemed almost to have a mind of its own. It fluttered teasingly over Vegeta’s head, making both men groan and pant.

Vegeta’s cock grew inside Piccolo again and the added pressure sent Piccolo’s whole _theadur_ stumbling into climax, but this time the flower held out, thirsty for Vegeta’s cum and it stretched, pulled, and twisted around Vegeta. Piccolo gasped at the intensity of the sensation, the orgasm making tears fill his eyes.

Piccolo’s breathing was ragged and uneven when he felt Vegeta tease his flower. Vegeta’s lips brushed Piccolo’s skin as he whispered, “Beg for your honeybee. Beg for me to fertilize your beautiful flower.”

Piccolo felt…ornery, so he purred, “No,” and bent all his will to withdrawing his petals. He brushed them sensually over all Vegeta’s engorged length. Piccolo hid them away, let them coil back into a tight bud.

Vegeta bit Piccolo hard enough that Piccolo paused, the very tip of his little flower still touching Vegeta’s cock. Vegeta said, “Bring it back fo me, love. Bring it back and your honeybee will beg. He’ll plead for those sublime touches.”

Piccolo gasped, “No. You were mean.”

“I can’t tease you a little?” Vegeta said and Piccolo felt him smile against his skin.

Piccolo’s throat tightened and his voice was thick as he said, “Not like this.”

“I’m sorry, love. I’ll be gentle and sweet. Please?”

Piccolo whispered, barely audible, his body almost shaking, “Do you still love me?”

Vegeta’s voice was hurt as he cried, “What?! Of course I still love you!” He started to pull out.

Sobs escaped Piccolo and Vegeta froze. He slid back as deep as he could. “Let me be your honeybee, love. _Vku-tseeka. Vku-karam._ Please? Let me give you your release. I crave your pleasure, my only. Please? I love you so much, Piccolo.”

Piccolo still cried as he unfurled every millimeter of himself for Vegeta. Vegeta growled in Saiyan and gave Piccolo everything he had in return until they were both breathless. Piccolo’s whole body ached by the time the orgasm relented, his muscles trembling, and his heartbeat so fast he felt faint.

Vegeta stayed inside Piccolo, but eased him down onto his belly as he murmured more love and assurances in Saiyan and English. 

“I know, sexy. I know. Fuck. It’s like I can’t help it, but it makes us both crazy.”

After kissing all over Piccolo’s back and shoulders, Vegeta said, “Don’t doubt my love just because you fuck me so well that I turn into a beast.”

Piccolo laughed, and they dozed, still joined. Piccolo didn’t wake until he heard Broly return with the triplets.


	14. The Price of Pleasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More very alien sexy-times ahead. I just can't stop myself.

The next morning, after the bliss of learning how to control his flower, Piccolo woke to a disturbing sensation. Vegeta was wrapped around the other side of their egg, their foreheads pressed together. Piccolo pressed a hand to his belly. “Fuck…” he breathed and slipped silently out to the balcony. 

Piccolo was too anxious to bother texting. He knew it was unfair to Dende, but Piccolo was barely keeping panic at bay. He dialed Dende’s number with tears already filling his eyes.

Dende answered sleepily and Piccolo heard Bulma complaining in the background. “Hullo? Piccolo? Is everything alright?”

“No! I’m sorry, Dende, but I’m freaking out! Is there any way what…um…what I told you about could have made me fertile sooner than I should be?”

Dende sounded wide awake now. “What? Why?”

Piccolo choked out, “Because I feel very fucking pregnant.”

“Oh, no, no, that can’t be, Piccolo! It’s much too soon!”

“No shit! Can I come by once you’re up and going? I’m panicking.”

“I’ll come to you. I’ll be there shortly,” Dende said and hung up.

Piccolo paced, his hand on his belly. It was definitely rounded. He felt the fullness that being pregnant gave him. It horrified him because it could be triplets again and their egg wasn’t even halfway through its incubation. They’d have no down time between newborns. And three wild toddlers to manage at the same time.

Vegeta strolled out onto the balcony, stretching and smiling. They’d had another intense flower-bout right before they’d gone to sleep and it was the first time they’d balanced the animal intensity of it with love and tenderness. It had been incredible for Piccolo, intense and intimate. Vegeta’s expression shifted from drowsy contentment to terror as soon as he saw Piccolo’s face. 

“Love?” Vegeta said and rushed to hold Piccolo. “What’s wrong?” he asked and added more quietly, “I thought…I thought last night was good?”

“It was. Amazing.” More tears spilled out of Piccolo as he choked out, “But I think I’m pregnant, Vegeta.”

Vegeta appeared surprised, but not unhappy. “Oh, strange. Don’t cry, love, we’ll manage. They’ll be close enough in age it’ll be just like having multiples again.”

“What if _this_ is multiples?” Piccolo said and clutched his belly.

“Calm down, _minaiya_ , let’s find out if you’re right first.”

“Dende’s on his way already.”

A knock came a few minutes later and Vegeta led Dende into their bedroom. Piccolo shucked his sweats and laid back on the bed, too nervous to observer social niceties.

Dende examined him with a deeply furrowed brow. “Oh dear, Piccolo, you are indeed pregnant. It’s twins.”

Choking sobs tore out of Piccolo and he covered his face with his hands. Three more babies. Basically another set of triplets. Exhaustion. Ceaseless need. Constant nursing and crying. More time away from dancing. Vegeta gathered Piccolo up and thanked Dende.

Vegeta whispered to Piccolo, “I’m going to go talk to Dende, love, I’ll be right back.”

Piccolo wallowed in his despair. He didn’t care that they would be okay. He didn’t care that they could afford to hire help. He wanted to feel sorry for himself so he did. He curled around their egg and sulked until Vegeta returned.

Piccolo realized maybe a good portion of his self-pity was that the magical new pleasure they’d discovered would be off-limits except during pregnancy. Piccolo cried harder, frustrated that his fertility seemed to be a desert or a flood.

Vegeta wrapped Piccolo in his arms and kissed him. “I’m sorry, love.”

“Why can’t we just fucking enjoy sex without…without…without this! Fucking Nameks, not investing in birth control.”

“Shh…We’ll be okay. We’ll just not do it that way anymore,” Vegeta said, but he sounded and looked as downcast and miserable as Piccolo felt.

“That fucking sucks, Vegeta!”

“Yes. It does,” Vegeta acknowledged.

Piccolo stammered, “Plus…I…now…um…sometimes it does it…does it on its own. Like I can’t control it.”

Vegeta nodded miserably, his head thumping against Piccolo’s chest. “I…I also struggle not to come when it’s out, when it wraps around me.”

“Yeah. I know. Fuck!”

Piccolo knew they should be celebrating. Back before Piccolo and Vegeta had been able to conceive, not rejoicing about a pregnancy between two lovers would have infuriated Piccolo. Yet he and Vegeta moved through the day as if in mourning.

Broly rubbed Piccolo’s back and said, “I’m pretty serious about this fellow at the coffee shop…if we mate…maybe we could adopt them? Then you would know they were in good hands, at least.” Piccolo scrutinized Broly and realized he was serious.

Vegeta hugged Broly, rested his head on his meaty shoulder. “Just bring him to live here and we’ll be one big, happy family.”

Broly kissed Vegeta’s forehead and said, “We want our own, too, ‘Geta.”

“We may have to move to a country manor then with six babies plus however many you two want,” Vegeta said with a snort.

“Eh, well, I have to see if he’ll mate with me first,” Broly said, with a little grin.

“Have you even asked him out?” Vegeta asked.

“Yeah, we went out all last week. Last night too!”

Vegeta said, “That’s a good sign if he’s met the triplets and hasn’t run away. Fuck. I better start looking for bigger places today.”

“Maybe we can buy out the people across the hall and renovate? Turn the whole story into one huge flat?” Piccolo said. He loved being close to work and high above the city.

“Hmm…don’t you think a yard and space might be good for the children?”

“Maybe, but not so much for your mate. I hate commuting. I don’t even know how to drive.”

Vegeta looked torn. Piccolo hated the discord. He knew they’d been lucky that they’d had smooth sailing in their relationship so far in that regard, but Piccolo thought the more children they had, the more they would disagree.

But Vegeta surprised Piccolo. “Oh, of course. I’ll look in the city and approach the neighbors. You should rest, love, you look tired.”

* * *

Piccolo’s third labor came on even more aggressively than his first two pregnancies. He staggered and dropped to his knees the morning of the thirteenth day. He cried out as a contraction ripped him apart. Vegeta sprinted to him and carried him into the bedroom, knowing there was no time to get to the birth center.

Broly called Dende. Dende arrived and confirmed that Piccolo’s urges to push were extremely premature. Dende gave Vegeta a significant look and left them to labor as they had the previous time.

Piccolo’s agony was almost too sharp to summon the glorious flower of pleasure they’d been enjoying almost frantically, nonstop for the past two weeks. They knew it would be off-limits as soon as the egg was born, so they’d both wanted to make the most of the surprise pregnancy.

Vegeta’s cock was Piccolo’s only relief and he took it greedily, pushing Vegeta to be his honeybee, to lavish pressure and cum on the petals inside Piccolo.

Vegeta looked close to weeping when he groaned, after only a few hours, “You’re open, love, push.” Piccolo felt a chimera of insane pleasure, overlaid by grief at the potentially indefinite cessation of flower sex, as he began to push.

Piccolo bore down and this was different than the blossoming. This, Piccolo now understood, was just Vegeta’s cock brushing the stretched, straining walls of his birth canal, and maybe the reason Nameks mated as they did. Piccolo wanted that buzzing, electric pleasure as long as possible because it took the edge off the horror of the first egg’s descent.

Vegeta waited as long as possible to pull out. He continued stimulating Piccolo with his fingers after that. The first egg exhausted Piccolo, taking longer to push out than any previous eggs. Even longer than it had taken him to dilate.

It was clear after several more hours trying to push out the second egg, that both Dende and Vegeta thought Piccolo would die with the second. Piccolo thought he would too. The weariness that wrapped around Piccolo was suffocating him, like the energy to breathe was suddenly too much to expend because there was nothing left.

Dende tried every method he knew to try to help the egg emerge to no avail. Vegeta finally shouted, “Leave us, send Broly in.” Vegeta wept and Piccolo knew that his little mate believed it was dire. Piccolo barely held on to consciousness. His eyes slipped closed and he couldn’t open them again.

Vegeta’s hand slid inside him and Piccolo summoned the will to mumble, “No, sexy, I can’t…”

“You are going to hate me, but I’m going to pull the egg. I don’t know what that will do to your sheath, but I know you will die if I don’t.”

“Wha—“ Piccolo’s words dissolved into a weak, exhausted scream as Vegeta’s hand pushed farther inside Piccolo than anything had ever been. It moved past the zone of pleasure and through the painful gateway to his womb. “Stop! Fuck! Stop, Vegeta!” Piccolo screeched, but couldn’t even fight Vegeta. His suffering trebled as Vegeta continued to invade his body.

“Broly! Now! I need you now!” Vegeta roared.

Piccolo felt frantic, terrified, and so weak he was afraid the pain would kill him before the exhaustion did.

Vegeta barked, “Hold him open, Broly, I’m pulling it!”

“Vegeta—“ Broly said, questioning.

“He’s dying, Broly! Do it!”

Piccolo screamed in helpless agony. Every time he thought he couldn’t know more suffering, it got worse, until at last, blissfully, he felt Vegeta yank the egg free of whatever it had hung up on, and it was out of him. Vegeta was out of him. 

Broly let go of Piccolo’s legs, but continued to cradle his upper body. He kissed Piccolo’s temple and squeezed him in a hug. “You did good, Piccolo. You did good. It’s over. You’re gonna be okay, yeah? You did good.”

“Is…” Piccolo faded and slurred, “izit okay?”

“It’s perfect, _minaiya,_ just perfect,” Vegeta answered and took Piccolo from Broly in exchange for the egg.

Piccolo tried to hold on as Dende came in. Piccolo was so bone-weary that when he heard Dende warn him about examining his _theadur_ , Piccolo let himself slide into unconsciousness, unable to handle any more pain. 

* * *

When Piccolo rose to consciousness again and croaked for Vegeta, Vegeta kissed all over Piccolo’s face, sprinkling him with tears. Piccolo grimaced and said, “Fuck, Vegeta, I feel like I got raped with a mace and I’m so tired.”

“Gods, love, I’m so sorry, but it had to be done. You were trying to die. I couldn’t…” Vegeta’s words clogged his throat. He took a few heaving breaths with his forehead pressed to Piccolo’s. “I couldn’t let you. I’m sorry I had to hurt you so badly to save you, but I had to, Piccolo, I had to do it. I can’t live without you. I’m so sorry.”

“How long was I out?”

“It’s been about twenty-four hours,” Vegeta said and kissed Piccolo. “I’m so sorry.”

“Stop, sexy. Please. I know you didn’t want to hurt me. I’m tired and I’m sore and we only have a couple months to prepare for three more fucking feral infants, but I’m okay. I’ll be okay. I love you, it’s okay.”

Piccolo’s confidence was hard to maintain day after day. His recovery was slow and the pain that plagued him seemed like it might never relent. Piccolo worried that his _theadur_ might never be pain-free again, let alone feel pleasure. He kept quiet, but Vegeta knew, he saw the way Piccolo winced sometimes when he stretched for work, the way he kept Vegeta’s everything away from him.

Piccolo could make love to Vegeta, at least, so they had each other. Piccolo felt some hope the first time they did that and he had no pain when he came. The first time Piccolo had jerked off after giving birth, his orgasm made his _theadur_ throb painfully for hours afterwards. 

Weeks passed and after about a month and a half, Piccolo realized he hadn’t felt any pain all day. He made love to Vegeta and spooned with his little mate afterwards. He didn’t even know if he wanted to tell Vegeta that his _theadur_ was maybe healed. But as if Vegeta sensed how Piccolo felt, he reached back and pressed his fingers softly between Piccolo’s legs, behind his balls, the faintest brush of the pads of his fingers on Piccolo’s slit.

Piccolo’s pulse skyrocketed. They hadn’t spoken even once about doing anything with his sheath since the twins’ delivery. Piccolo hadn’t touched it any more than the bare minimum to keep it clean. He hadn’t masturbated in it, still too scared that it would hurt.

Vegeta caressed it more, his two fingers running alongside the tightly closed entrance. Piccolo held his breath, but was startled when no pain came as Vegeta added a little pressure. All he felt was a stirring of pleasure.

Piccolo adjusted ever-so-slightly, but Vegeta took it as permission to try. He rolled in Piccolo’s embrace, kissed his mouth sweetly, then sucked down his neck. Vegeta pulled Piccolo’s nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Once it was pebbled and stiff, Vegeta suckled it hard until Piccolo writhed against him. Vegeta’s fingers now ran on the actual slit, pressing softly, but not penetrating Piccolo. 

Vegeta’s tongue dragged over the crenelations of Piccolo’s abs, and though he licked and kissed and sucked Piccolo’s prick and balls, they were clearly not his destination. Piccolo tensed as Vegeta’s tongue found Piccolo’s _theadur_.

“Okay, love?”

Piccolo examined this and found no pain, but plenty of fear. "I'm scared, sexy,” he whispered.

“If it hurts, tell me. I’ll stop right away.”

Piccolo nodded, but his body trembled. Vegeta’s lips kissed and massaged Piccolo. Vegeta kept it light for a long time before experimenting with his tongue again, letting the hot, wet tip slide up the valley of Piccolo’s slit, back down. Piccolo’s body went rigid.

“No good?” Vegeta murmured.

“It's good. It’s good. Yeah,” Piccolo breathed, startled to find it was true.

Vegeta’s tongue continued up and down in a hypnotic rhythm and gradually, Piccolo dared to whisper, “Just one. We can try just one.”

Vegeta nodded against Piccolo. Vegeta’s gentle pressure with a single finger felt fine, so Piccolo relaxed some. Vegeta pressed and released, pressed and released, and continued to do so until Piccolo pleaded, “Vegeta…”

Vegeta curled his single, patient finger inside Piccolo as Piccolo held his breath, trying not to be tense, but unable to help it. But there was no pain. Only pleasure. Such intense pleasure that Piccolo realized with embarrassment that he was going to come.

“I…oh shit…Vegeta,” Piccolo rasped and his sheath climaxed for the first time since his terrifying, painful delivery. Piccolo surged against Vegeta’s hand, clutching at his little mate.

“Come for me, love. Come for me. Oh gods, your sweet sheath is just milking me, Piccolo. Yes, fuck, yes, you feel divine. Gods, I’ve missed making you feel good, love.”

Piccolo fell back into the pillows, examined his feelings, and breathed a sigh of relief that there hadn’t been any pain. Piccolo was curious if they could have sex. “Vegeta…will you be gentle? Make love to me?”

“Are you sure?” Vegeta asked, his eyebrows crumpling together. “There’s no rush, Piccolo. I loved giving that to you, but I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“No, it felt really good. I just…now…now I just want to know if we can,” Piccolo said, spreading his legs wider, tugging Vegeta up to his mouth.

Vegeta’s dark eyes bored into Piccolo and he said, “You know that even if we can’t, it doesn’t mean we never will.”

“I know. But maybe we can. Maybe I can be a real Namek again.”

“Oh, love, don’t say that. You’re not defined by where you can receive dicks,” Vegeta said with a little smirk.

Piccolo laughed. “Will you let me try receiving your dick in my sheath anyway?”

“Yes, love, of course I’ll give you my cock,” Vegeta said and kissed Piccolo. Vegeta shifted and kissed Piccolo more, caressing Piccolo’s flank and outer thigh. Vegeta bit Piccolo’s ear softly and murmured, “It’s so hot when you’re so responsive to my touch. I love how you came for me, and feeling you come on my finger was delicious. I almost came rutting on the sheets, but I’d rather feel you on my prick. Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I think so…”

Vegeta eased into Piccolo with teasing slowness. There wasn’t any pain exactly, but pressure, like Piccolo was a virgin again. “Fuck, Vegeta,” Piccolo moaned.

Vegeta kissed Piccolo’s pecs and rasped, “Do I feel as good inside you as your tight, hot sheath feels on me?”

“Gods, yes. I want you deeper. I want more of you. I’m so tight I can feeling every bit of you. I feel how hard you are for me, sexy. How much you want me.”

“Piccolo, your sheath is amazing…” Vegeta growled and plunged until he was in Piccolo up to the hilt. “Pain?”

“No…only…fuck…Vegeta! Hold still…oh fuck…please!” Piccolo groaned and to his shame, he came again, having barely started, like his sheath was trying to make up for lost time.

But Vegeta nipped his ear and purred, “Gods, see, look at you. You were starving for my cock, weren’t you, love?”

Piccolo shuddered as his _theadur_ pulsed and gripped Vegeta’s length. The relief of it was overwhelming and he whispered, “Will you fuck me until I come again, sexy? Sorry I came like that…”

“Don’t be sorry, love. It turns me on.”

Piccolo canted his head to the side and gazed into Vegeta’s eyes. His little mate’s dark pupils burned with love and lust and hunger. Piccolo said, smirking, “Really?”

“Yes, really. I love that I have that power over you. It makes me want to try to do it again.”

“Do what?” Piccolo asked but Vegeta slid out of him, leaving Piccolo’s sheath hungry and trembling. Piccolo’s cock started to twitch too, like his _theadur_ would set his dick off too.

Vegeta fondled Piccolo’s sheath a little, brushed his knuckles against it. “This…if when I do this…” Vegeta inched his tip inside Piccolo and moved at a torturously slow pace until he was again seated as deep as he could go inside Piccolo. Vegeta gasped, “If when I do this, if your sweet sheath won’t milk me again.”

Piccolo wanted to resist, to make Vegeta work for it, but his _theadur_ seemed pent-up, like Vegeta’s finger had broken a dam. Piccolo quivered and groaned, “Ah! Do you…do you mean it? You want…you want it?”

“Are you going to come for me again, love? Are you going to grip my cock so sweet that maybe I’ll come too?” Vegeta purred.

Piccolo exploded, this orgasm even more powerful than the previous as he embraced it instead of fighting it. Piccolo’s whole body cramped and released as he bucked hard toward Vegeta’s prick. Piccolo’s sheath clenched and gripped and Piccolo’s dick erupted, coating his belly in giz. As Piccolo writhed on his cock, Vegeta’s mouth dropped open in pleasure, his eyes squeezed shut, and his prick answered the call of Piccolo’s _theadur_ , and spilled inside Piccolo. Vegeta’s cum felt like a soothing balm and aftershocks so strong semen jetted out of Piccolo shook him.

It all only seemed to make Piccolo harder though and he whimpered. Vegeta’s hand wrapped around Piccolo’s cock and Vegeta murmured, “I may have to just make you come like that all night, love. I think that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever made your body do.”

Vegeta dragged his cock out of Piccolo as he ran his hand firmly up and down Piccolo’s length. “No, sexy, I want…I want you to be able to fuck me…” Piccolo trailed off as Vegeta began the slow drive back into Piccolo. Piccolo’s body seemed determined to be un-pent-up, like every nerve that knew pleasure bent its will toward finding it. Piccolo felt the familiar, blissful, whispery unfurling of his little flower. He couldn’t survive another pregnancy, but his body demanded satisfaction for all its neglected parts.

“Fuck, Piccolo, I…oh gods, I want to be your honeybee. I…I can try not to come…” Vegeta plunged deeper. 

Piccolo knew it didn’t matter, there was already so much cum in his _theadur_ that the flower would take it if that was what it wanted. Piccolo said, “No, sexy, I need your cum. I’m already filled, so at least give me what I need. And I need your cum in my flower. I need to feel you fucking let go inside my petals. I need it, Vegeta. I need it so badly!”

Vegeta curled over Piccolo, his ass tightening, and slammed into Piccolo. Vegeta’s cock responded to the flower, expanding, and stretched Piccolo even more. Vegeta’s cum-swollen head pressed so tight on the center of the flower that Piccolo imploded as the orgasm collapsed from his _theadur_ and cock down into the core at the center of his petals. It echoed back out with catastrophic muscle spasms.

Vegeta roared and another wave of ecstasy rolled over Piccolo as Vegeta’s semen splashed and soaked Piccolo’s little blossom. Piccolo’s whole body shook. Vegeta surprised him, pulling out quickly and sliding his whole hand in Piccolo’s cum-slick sheath.

“What are you—“

Another almost unbearable orgasm slammed into Piccolo as Vegeta gently pinched the base of the flower to keep it from retracting. He held them out with his thumb and pinky, stroking the inside of the petals with his three middle fingers. 

Piccolo bucked and wailed. What Vegeta was doing felt hot, but terrifying. Vegeta licked around where his wrist disappeared inside Piccolo. Vegeta growled, “I _will_ have your pleasure.”

Vegeta gave a little tug at the petals. Piccolo’s legs went wider almost against his will. Vegeta shifted underneath Piccolo until Piccolo felt the fullness of Vegeta’s head against his pucker.

Piccolo was tense and tight from coming so hard, so many times, but Vegeta pushed through the tension of Piccolo’s ass and rammed against his p-spot, never letting go of Piccolo’s flower. Piccolo’s cock poured milky fluid as Vegeta rocked his hips, still giving gentle tugs to the base of the petals while finger-fucking them.

Vegeta made an animal noise and Piccolo cried out as the fullness in his sheath redoubled. Vegeta’s tail pushed deep into his _theadur_. Vegeta’s fingers forced open the petals farther and pushed the tip of his tail against the center of the little flower. Vegeta was crying out constantly before his tail slipped into Piccolo’s sheath, but once it and its millions of nerves found the core of that magnificent little organ, Piccolo and Vegeta screamed together.

Piccolo pleaded incoherently, so much sensation overtaking him that he didn’t know if he wanted it to stop or keep going forever. “Vegeta! Ah! Ah! Fucking gods!”

Vegeta closed his eyes as his head fell back. He fucked up into Piccolo’s ass, pushing him to the brink of a prostate orgasm as his tail twisted and pulsed in the flower. Vegeta’s fingers tugged and stroked the petals in time. Vegeta moaned, “Now, love, come for me, all of you, come, please!”

Piccolo let go in the most mind-blowing combination orgasm of his already very sexually satisfied life. The throbbing pulses of pleasure that radiated out from his sheath rippled into his cock until he was slick with his own cum. His ass clenched on Vegeta’s cock and felt so pleasantly tight and full. His flower sent fireworks crackling into his brain over and over until Piccolo’s whole body trembled.

Vegeta came inside Piccolo, thrusting and thrusting and thrusting, pushing more cum out of Piccolo. Vegeta’s hand and tail forced Piccolo’s little flower to accept all the pleasure. To remain open and feel all of it. The intensity caused tears to pour out of the corners of Piccolo’s eyes and Vegeta’s too as he choked out a last few agonized cries.

As their hips rolled together more gently and slowly, Vegeta’s fingers caressed the petals and let them twist closed and away at last, brushing their tender tips as they hid away inside Piccolo. Piccolo shuddered with another shockwave of pleasure. 

Vegeta’s hand wrapped around his tail inside Piccolo, seemingly jerking it off. Vegeta’s face collapsed with pleasure and yet another, thankfully more minor, orgasm trilled through Piccolo as a result of Vegeta’s knuckles stroking the electric, live-wire nerves in his sheath.

Vegeta came again too, spurting in Piccolo’s ass, and Piccolo’s little mate groaned. Piccolo felt Vegeta’s seed leaking out of him and it turned him on to know how much pleasure he’d brought Vegeta. Vegeta trembled and squeezed his tail a final few times with a long moan, and eased his hand out of Piccolo.

Vegeta’s tail fucked Piccolo languidly. Piccolo had nothing left to give, or so he thought. The dexterity of Vegeta’s tail taught him otherwise as it wrung another climax out of him, Vegeta growling and more of his cum pelted Piccolo’s core before being pushed out around Vegeta's cock. Piccolo’s sheath milked Vegeta’s tail until he finally, slowly, withdrew it.

Now they were only joined at Piccolo’s ass. Somehow Vegeta wasn’t done, even as cum surged out of Piccolo with every thrust. Vegeta said nothing, but rolled his hips as he braced his hands on either side of Piccolo’s waist. He bent his head, kissing and sucking Piccolo’s cum-sticky nipples.

“Vegeta…I’m spent…”

Vegeta’s eyes rose up and were full of pleading as he whispered, “I’m so close, love…”

“Yeah?” Piccolo said and tightened his ass, relaxed, and clenched it again. Vegeta moaned appreciatively and at last cried out, giving Piccolo a final few savage thrusts as he filled Piccolo yet again. The last plunge sent Piccolo spinning into another prostate orgasm so surprising he shouted.

Vegeta collapsed on him, slipping off to one side thanks the volume of cum on Piccolo’s torso. They laid in silence except for the sound of their panting breaths until both of them were breathing normally again.

“Love?” Vegeta said.

“Hmm?” Piccolo hummed, exhausted but happy.

“I…I’m sorry,” Vegeta whispered.

“No, don’t be. That was amazing. In-fucking-sane, but amazing.”

“Really? You’re not upset?” Vegeta propped himself up on his elbows to look in Piccolo’s eyes.

“Of course really. I don’t know what inspired…that…but holy shit, incredible. I just hope I’m not fucking pregnant.”

“If you are, we may need to give it to Broly.”

Piccolo laughed. “Saiyans are weird.”

“You’re an honorary Saiyan, _minaiya_ ,” Vegeta said and chuckled.

They curled around their eggs, not even bothering to clean up, and slept like the dead. Even the dread of pregnancy couldn’t keep Piccolo awake he was so worn out.


	15. Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably just gonna be alien sex stuff in every chapter from here on out. I'll stop warning you. If you've come this far with me, you're probably like me, lol ;P

Their single egg was due to hatch any day. Piccolo had remained miraculously un-pregnant despite regularly getting carried away with _theadur_ sex. Piccolo’s little flower had a mind of its own and there was no denying it anymore.

Piccolo lounged in bed, curled alongside their eggs. He’d had an excellent performance the night before, earning a standing ovation. Vegeta attended, which he rarely did since they’d had children, along with Broly and Nappa, Broly’s coffee-shop love. Raditz babysat the triplets and looked a little the worse for wear when they’d returned home.

Vegeta ravished Piccolo after the show, as his honeybee and every other imaginable way. Some unimaginable. Piccolo still smiled, and even blushed, remembering things that Vegeta had said to Piccolo, things he’d done to Piccolo’s body.

Vegeta came in and opened the blinds. He brought Piccolo a tray with breakfast and tea. He kissed Piccolo deeply and climbed back into bed alongside the eggs.

“To what do I owe breakfast in bed, sexy?” Piccolo asked, popping a piece of cantaloupe in his mouth.

Vegeta arched an eyebrow at him before a wicked smirk spread on his face. “I didn’t think you’d be able to walk today.”

Piccolo never missed an opportunity to tease Vegeta. “Oh, I’m not sore from my show. It went really smoothly and I’ve been practicing so much that it was no big deal.”

Vegeta moved the eggs out of the bed and took Piccolo’s tray away. He pushed Piccolo’s legs wide. Piccolo grinned as Vegeta settled between them. His mate traced his finger up Piccolo’s cum-crusted slit as he kissed Piccolo. “Maybe I ought to fuck the attitude right out of you this morning,” Vegeta purred and dipped his fingers inside Piccolo.

As if on cue, Peta screeched from the kitchen. Vegeta thrust hard into Piccolo until he was panting. Then he withdrew and grinned as he whispered, “You are not off the hook. Eat up, love.”

Vegeta took the children out to the park. Their neighbors had agreed to sell their flat to Vegeta and Piccolo at what Piccolo thought was an absurd price. Vegeta told Piccolo they could pay up or move. Piccolo loved their flat, so he acquiesced to the exorbitant price. Piccolo looked through some of the plans for the renovation while he ate in bed.

Piccolo was still in bed when Vegeta returned to feed the triplets lunch and put them down for their nap. Piccolo’s mood dampened when he realized his exhaustion could mean he was pregnant. Dende taught Vegeta to check Piccolo for pregnancy once it was clear the little flower wasn’t willing to be subdued. It was easier for everyone if a call to Dende wasn’t necessary every time.

Piccolo realized, as he heard Vegeta finish putting the kids down for their nap, that he was still horny, despite the night before. Sometimes Piccolo was voracious for Vegeta after an especially hot night because he kept reminiscing about the things they’d done. Now he couldn’t stop reliving the sex and he was hard.

Vegeta came in the bedroom, closed and locked the door. He stripped off his clothes and Piccolo panted seeing that Vegeta was hard too. Vegeta moved lithely above Piccolo. “Love, I have been unable to focus all day for thinking about your divine body.Thinking about what we did last night.”

“Mmm…likewise,” Piccolo murmured and pressed his mouth to Vegeta’s. He tasted his little mate and groaned as Vegeta’s tongue curled against his. “I need you to fuck me, sexy, but will you check me first? I’m tired today.”

Concern flashed on Vegeta’s face, but he sprang out of bed and got his instruments. Piccolo spread his legs wide. Even this was turning him on, having Vegeta look inside him.

Vegeta lifted his head and said, “Safe again.”

Piccolo whispered, “You want to play doctor, Vegeta?” with a licentious smirk.

Vegeta’s tail snaked inside Piccolo’s sheath, held open by a little speculum-like instrument. Piccolo gasped, “No fair going right into the naughty stuff.”

It slinked back out. Vegeta slid the tool in and out of Piccolo. He growled, kissing the inside of Piccolo’s thigh, “Maybe I’ll open you up and watch your little flower come out for me. Do you have any idea how hot that would be?”

Piccolo’s eyes widened. He’d only been teasing, but now he was so turned on that he wanted it. He whispered, “Really? You want to try?”

“Fuck yes, if you’re willing, love.” Vegeta massaged him open wider, changing the setting to push Piccolo open as wide as possible. “Maybe if I do this, the shy little thing might be encouraged,” Vegeta said and reached inside Piccolo, twisting his finger. He twirled his finger more and laid down between Piccolo’s legs. “I don’t want to miss a second of it.”

Piccolo panted and the pressure from Vegeta’s tool combined with the movement of his finger to feel amazing. Piccolo breathed, “Do you want me to try to bring out my little flower for your viewing pleasure, honeybee? Ask me if you want it.”

“Please, Piccolo, make your little flower bloom for me so I can see how beautiful it is.” Vegeta’s face was so earnest and hungry that it turned Piccolo on even more. He wanted to please his little mate.

Piccolo groaned, “Touch me just a little more, then move your finger so you can watch.”

Vegeta’s finger dragged around the place where the flower hid. He had brought Piccolo this pleasure so many times that he knew exactly how Piccolo needed his touch.

Piccolo panted, “I’m ready if you’re ready.”

“Can I film it? So you can see?”

“Fuck yes, hurry though,” Piccolo whispered, his body ready and aching to give itself to Vegeta.

Vegeta lunged for his phone, set it going, and his eyes moved back to Piccolo. They were rapt on Piccolo’s secret interior, not his phone’s screen.

Piccolo’s body shook and he arched his back as his hidden petals unfurled. His shy little flower emerged and Vegeta gasped, “Holy fuck, Piccolo, you’re beautiful.”

Piccolo’s flower bloomed wider at Vegeta’s praise and Vegeta started touching himself, twisting his hips so he could stroke his cock. It put Piccolo’s arousal through the roof and his petals stretched more, hungry for Vegeta. “Are you touching yourself for me, sexy?”

“Can you bloom more for me, love? I want to come while I watch your little flower. Your sexy, beautiful fucking flower.” Vegeta reached up and took Piccolo’s cock in his other hand. Piccolo bucked into Vegeta’s grip until Vegeta purred, “Don’t take my show, love. Sweet fucking gods, it is so hot that you do this for me.”

Piccolo panted with the effort of keeping himself both still and open. He rasped, “When you come, sexy, will you touch it? I want to see what happens when you pollinate my little flower. I want you to see.”

“Fuck yes, love. Gods, you’re going to make me come just talking like that,” Vegeta said and cried out. Piccolo saw his hips surging and Piccolo came too, turned on by Vegeta’s masturbation as much as anything else. “Can I touch your perfect flower with my cum?”

“Yeah, gods, I’m so ready, Vegeta. I think it’s going to make my sheath come.”

Vegeta’s eyes were riveted to Piccolo’s sheath as Piccolo felt his mate’s slick finger brush around inside him. Vegeta held his breath as he touched Piccolo’s flower. Piccolo cried out and forced his hips to stay still as a powerful orgasm wracked his body, and Vegeta drew it out, capturing his petals before they could retreat.

“Holy shit, it’s weird to come while being held open,” Piccolo groaned and screamed as Vegeta fondled his petals more.

“They change color!” Vegeta cried happily and forced the flower open more, which always made Piccolo ride the ridge between pleasure and pain. Vegeta pushed his finger hard into the core of the flower and Piccolo shattered, unable to breathe the pleasure was so intense. Vegeta growled and pulsed his finger. Vegeta drew it out until Piccolo whimpered for him to stop as he became hypersensitive.

“Should I let your little petals retreat, love?”

Piccolo couldn’t speak and Vegeta took that as a negative, thrusting into Piccolo again. Piccolo groaned and pleaded, “Enough, Vegeta, enough.”

“Oh, love, your body is a fucking drug, but I’ll wait to take more from you,” Vegeta said and released Piccolo’s flower, stroking it as it coiled back inside Piccolo. Piccolo quivered and trembled. Vegeta’s phone clicked as he stopped the recording and he eased the speculum out of Piccolo. “I guess I’ll have to check you tomorrow, too.”

Piccolo made a weak noise of assent, his body still trying to recover from Vegeta’s ministrations. Vegeta kissed him and whispered, “That’s what you get for your sassy attitude earlier.”

“Vegeta…holy shit…” Piccolo groaned.

Vegeta was still between Piccolo’s legs. He mused, “Mmm…I wonder what would happen if I fucked your little flower out right now, love? Do you think you could handle it?” He kissed Piccolo more, rolling his hips against Piccolo so they were frotting.

“I…I don't think that’s possible, Vegeta. I’m exhausted.”

Vegeta shifted so his head brushed Piccolo’s slit. Piccolo mewled with pleasure, his mind fogged, and his body was awash in so much post-orgasmic bliss that Vegeta could probably do anything he wanted. He nibbled Piccolo’s ear and rasped, “Seeing you that way has me so hot, Piccolo. Can I fuck you? Please, love?”

Piccolo nodded. Vegeta took him gently to start, but before long, he was demanding, as was often the case when he got riled up. “Love, can you touch me with your petals, just a taste? My cock is jealous of what my hand got earlier.”

“Vegeta…I’m so tired…”

“Not too tired to fuck your mate how he needs? Not too tired for your honeybee?”

Piccolo reached into the last reserves of his strength and brought forth his flower for Vegeta. Vegeta’s response, his growth, made Piccolo wail with ecstasy.

He was bucking up against Vegeta, crying out for his mate to come, when he heard the first crack. Vegeta growled, “Mine! _Vkai!_ You’re mine! Give me your pleasure, love! Take mine. Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, Piccolo! I loved watching you dance last night. And what you just did for me this morning was so fucking hot. I can’t wait to watch it with you. Touch you while we watch it.”

That set Piccolo off again, taking him by surprise. Vegeta bit Piccolo’s pec as he finished and held him still while Vegeta’s seed filled him. Piccolo’s mate growled a warning when he tried to move as he heard a louder crack.

Vegeta truly filled Piccolo, coming for so long that Piccolo thought maybe he hadn’t actually come and was still trying. But Piccolo felt semen drip out of himself as Vegeta pulsed. When Vegeta finally let Piccolo move, Piccolo said, “How the hell do you have that much cum _left_ after last night?”

Vegeta helped clean Piccolo up so they could at least have pants on to meet their new baby. It hatched quickly and angrily, never pausing even as they moved it from the incubator onto the bed. It was another Vegeta doppelgänger, but even more so, with Vegeta’s golden skin and only antennae to reveal his mixed parentage. He was male.

He lunged for Piccolo’s nipple, sucking so hard Piccolo yelped. Vegeta laughed and said, “Very obviously my son.”

“Yeah, he is. Oh, look at his little feet. I guess I don’t mind that you made me have more. What should we name him?”

“Picca?” Vegeta offered.

“Yeah, I like that,” Piccolo said. 

Vegeta leaned in and pressed his nose into Picca’s hair and inhaled. “I love the scent of my offspring with you, Piccolo.”

Piccolo switched a growling, flailing Picca to Vegeta and smelled their new son. “We make excellent babies, Vegeta, smells and all.”

* * *

Piccolo had never truly known the meaning of chaos until they had six Saimekian children under three while trying to renovate two flats together, nursing three of the babies, dancing full time, and finding out, in the midst of it all, that he was pregnant again.

He and Vegeta had tried condoms for a while, but it left them both entirely unsatisfied. Within a month they gave up on them. They tried sticking to anal sex too, and that was better than condoms, but the call of Piccolo’s sheath was so loud. So constant. The flower called too, and it was insistent as well as persistent. So they’d given up fighting their bodies. After a few months of flower-fucking with no consequences, they started to relax, thinking that the twins were just a fluke, not a natural result of their new pleasure.

Dende offered the permanent solution of cauterizing the sperm receptor that had been their original fertility nemesis. It was apparently different than Piccolo’s flower, but Vegeta talked Piccolo out of it on the off chance they decided to have more to donate to Broly and Nappa. Broly and Nappa mated shortly after the twins hatched. Now they both lived with Vegeta and Piccolo and all six terrors.

Piccolo found the idea of giving his baby to someone else, even Broly, upsetting, but Vegeta said it was common in Saiyan communities for those who could produce young to gift some to those who couldn’t. Piccolo reminded Vegeta that he had nearly died in labor. Vegeta countered that Vegeta would always save Piccolo. Even without near-death experiences, Piccolo didn’t relish the thought of giving birth again.

Getta and Vega, another girl and another hermaphrodite were wild from the moment they hatched, keeping their own seemingly random schedule, and learning to walk within weeks. Picca was like some sort of double agent, always trying to maximize his gain from his elder and younger siblings, frequently wielding Broly and Nappa as unwitting stooges. Vegeta was the only one who could withstand Picca’s charisma and was therefore Picca’s unchallenged favorite.

Piccolo wept into his hand as the morning’s construction noise began. He hadn’t had Vegeta confirm it yet, but he knew: he felt pregnant. Piccolo didn’t even want to tell Vegeta because he wasn’t ready for his little mate’s excitement. The opening show of Piccolo's season was in three weeks.

Vegeta came in with Picca on his shoulders and Vega and Getta each wrapped around a leg. Piccolo glanced at movement out on their bedroom balcony and saw Peta shimmying along the outside of the railing, so who knew where Brola and Vela were.

“Fuck!” Piccolo screeched and threw open the door. “Get on the other side of the balustrade, you little creepy crawly, Peta!”

Peta said, “Okay, Daddy,” and clambered over the railing. To Piccolo’s horror, Vela and Brola dangled off his feet. 

All three made it safely back onto the balcony and Piccolo said, “No climbing on the outside of the building! I told you that last time! You know better!”

Vegeta only chuckled and set Piccolo’s tea and breakfast on the little table outside. The triplets swarmed up Vegeta’s body until he was covered in their offspring, laughing and launching them each high in the air in turns. Vegeta took them inside and tossed them on the bed and wrestled with them until Nappa came in and announced it was park time with their uncles.

They scampered out like a troop of rabid baboons. Piccolo was grateful they all potty-trained by about two-months-old. The diapering had been a nightmare when the triplets wanted to “help.” Piccolo packed up the enormous bag of snacks and water bottles necessary for six baby Saimekians. He held up their harnesses and leashes. “You want them leashed now, Nappa?” 

The leashes had been Vegeta’s idea, and some human parents gave them horrified looks, but Piccolo got over that after the first time he'd had to scale a fifty foot tree after one triplet while holding the other two.

“Nah, just put ‘em in the pack, Picc. We’re gonna run to the park,” Nappa said. He had adopted Broly’s physically affectionate habits, but it still startled Piccolo when the big man gave him a squeeze and a kiss on the temple. Nappa looked him over and said, “You okay?” 

Piccolo nodded and thanked Nappa as Broly came out and started shooing the kids in Saiyan. He smooched Piccolo’s cheek and said, “See you later, Picc, have a good day at the studio! Bye, ‘Geta!”

Piccolo wished there was the usual delightful silence after they left, but the construction racket was awful. He retreated to their bedroom balcony to slurp down his tea before heading to work. He hoped to sneak in a few days of practice before his need for Vegeta overwhelmed him as he got fatter and more ungainly.

He turned to take his breakfast inside to throw away, his anguish over being pregnant was too acute to stomach food, but Vegeta stood in the doorway with narrowed eyes. Piccolo jumped he was so startled.

“Gods, Vegeta, you scared the shit out of me! I thought you were in the shower,” Piccolo said and hoped his mate would just let him go.

“Why were you crying this morning?” Vegeta said, his arms tightly crossed, legs wide, blocking Piccolo’s escape route.

Piccolo briefly considered just slipping off to Dende for an abortion, but he could never keep such a secret from Vegeta. He never wanted any secrets from Vegeta. He sighed and slumped. “I’m pregnant.” 

Vegeta looked wounded, not excited. “When did you see Dende?”

Piccolo shook his head. “I didn’t. You can check me, but I know. I feel it.”

Vegeta seemed a bit deflated by the news, which was easier for Piccolo than his little mate being exuberant about it. They’d been brazen in their unprotected sex, feeling confident after not getting immediately pregnant from flower-sex that Piccolo wasn’t fertile for the usual year to eighteen months after bearing an egg. Piccolo was still nursing all three younger babies.

Vegeta said softly, “Well, let’s find out for sure, then we can…plan.”

They moved into the bedroom and Vegeta nodded after examining Piccolo, though it was blessedly a single egg. Piccolo covered his face with his hand. He now had the unfortunate response of getting aroused when Vegeta checked him and it was weird to have that mixed with his despondency over his pregnancy. Vegeta stroked the inside of Piccolo’s thighs and Piccolo had the bizarre sensation of bawling while also wanting to do kinky sexual things.

“Fuck, love, what do you want to do?” Vegeta whispered.

Piccolo sobbed more. “What can we do? Fuck. Such shitty timing too.”

“Oh, shit, Piccolo, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about that.” Vegeta scrubbed a hand over his face and said, “Do you want to see if Dende can…” Vegeta trailed off, held his mouth, and his eyes closed tightly.

Piccolo didn’t want to cause his mate that much pain. “No, Vegeta, no, not our baby. Not a baby made from love. I mean, we can afford it and care for it and love it. It certainly crossed my mind, but I don’t want to make you suffer with my selfishness.”

“No, Piccolo, if that’s what you want, we should. Your body struggled with Vega and Getta. Having these pregnancies all on top of each other is obviously taxing. I guess you’re almost a year out from birthing Vega and Getta’s eggs. But you need to do what’s right for your body, I just wish we didn’t have to make this decision.”

“We…um…we could talk to Nappa and Broly. Dende said the humans have a new drug that can make anyone lactate, so they could nurse. It would at least be sort of ours still. We'd know it was well cared for, you know?” Piccolo said, but the thought made his heart ache.

Vegeta’s eyebrows furrowed. “I thought you didn’t like the idea of giving a baby away?”

“Well…I worry it will feel rejected once it’s old enough to realize we gave it away. How do we…how do we deal with that?”

“By telling it most of the truth: that Broly and Nappa desperately wanted a baby, so we made one for them since they couldn't make their own. That we love it, but Broly and Nappa are its parents. Because I will love it, I know. I’ll love our children even if their our nieces and nephews. That’s why it works in Saiyan communities.”

“Fuck, Vegeta. It…it makes me a little sad. I want to help them, but I think it will make me sad.”

“I can’t think of any scenario that won’t be hard and make us sad, love,” Vegeta said and wrapped Piccolo in his arms. They cried together and Piccolo almost laughed too, that in a few short years they’d gone for crying _for_ a baby to crying _because_ of a baby. “Let’s talk to Nappa and Broly tonight after bedtime and then decide. How’s that sound, _minaiya_?”

“Yeah, okay. I’ve got to get to practice. I love you,” Piccolo said and picked up his bag to leave.

Vegeta grabbed his hand and said, “Don’t hide shit from me, love. It hurts my feelings.”

“I wasn’t, Vegeta. I’ve only known since I woke up and we live in an insane asylum.”

“We do,” Vegeta said, smirking, “I love it. I love you. Have a good practice and I’ll see you tonight.” He kissed Piccolo and slapped his ass as he left.


	16. Uncles

Piccolo lost himself in dance that day, pushing the accidental pregnancy to the back of his mind. Dance had always been the only thing that could quiet Piccolo’s mind. It didn’t fail him that day and as they cooled down at the end of practice, Bulma said, “Picc, you were on fire today. Our show is going to be amazing.”

Piccolo groaned. The unwelcome truth roared back to the forefront of his mind. Piccolo needed to tell Bulma and Krillin that he was pregnant _again_. Constant pregnancy hadn’t ruined his career yet, but only because Vegeta was so supportive and had the money for him to stay home. At best Piccolo had two more days of practice before he’d be unable to deny his need to be with Vegeta.

“Bad news, Bulma. We, uh, Vegeta and I thought we were in the infertile window…but…we weren’t, apparently.”

“Picc! Congratulations! I though you said you were done at six? You guys are going to live in a zoo!”

“We already do. And we did want to stop at six. This is not good news. I don’t know what we’re gonna do,” Piccolo said with a tremor in his voice. He wished it wasn't such a hard decision. Could he give his baby away? Despite the feral existence he endured with his children, he loved them fiercely. Enjoyed them most times. And there was no denying how happy they made Vegeta.

“Oh no!” Bulma cried, “You poor thing. Why don’t you talk to Dende about it? The last two almost killed you.”

“Yeah. I know. We thought about it. But…Broly and Nappa want a baby, so we may, um, we may give it to them.”

Bulma’s eyebrows shot up and her eyes bugged. “Oh wow. Is…will…would you be okay with that?”

“I don’t know yet, we’re going to talk to them tonight.”

Bulma said, looking a little abashed, “Well, it’s early, so I’m _only_ telling you, but…I’m pregnant too!”

Piccolo smiled and hugged her. “That’s awesome, Bulma! Congratulations! I didn’t know you guys were trying!”

“We weren’t exactly, but we weren’t _not_ trying, you know? Dende and I decided to become _atheanna_ before this happened, so we’re excited. Krillin is going to be pissed, but oh well.”

“Vegeta said 18 is pregnant too, we’ll have to get in-house daycare at this rate,” Piccolo said.

Bulma laughed and said, “Or just let Vegeta and Broly handle the whole lot of them, which is just hilarious, but is probably what’s going to happen.”

Piccolo giggled and said, “The two most unlikely nannies ever, but they do have a way with the little monsters.”

Bulma turned serious again and said, “How’s Vegeta handling the news? Did he squeal with joy?”

“No, he was actually pretty upset too, which shocked me. Vega and Getta are so wild with everyone, and Picca only behaves for Vegeta, that I think he’s actually ready to be done. He said I could go to Dende, which surprised me even more. It’s just such bullshit that my body is all or nothing.”

“Yeah, that’s hard. I bet Broly will be so happy. Nappa too. I thought he was never going to be able to stop weeping at Vega and Getta’s hatchling party.”

“It was pretty funny. A big-ass bald Saiyan with full-sleeve tattoos bawling about onesies while discussing various tail-hole constructions is just about as cognitively dissonant as it gets,” Piccolo said, laughing more.

“This is the first hatchling party that Broly didn’t cry at, so maybe your brood is making him reconsider,” Bulma said and nudged Piccolo with her elbow as they walked out onto the street. “You coming to practice tomorrow? Have you told Krillin?”

“No, I’m a coward. I’m going to text him today.”

“Yeah, if this sticks, I’m not looking forward to telling him,” Bulma said. She hopped up and pecked Piccolo’s cheek, hanging on him by his shoulder. “You’ll be okay, sweetie. I know this is hard, but whatever you decide will work out.”

* * *

Piccolo emerged from putting Picca to bed, the last of their young to go down, and the most recalcitrant when it was Piccolo putting him to bed. He leaned back against the younger set’s door, eager for the day when his offspring could all have their own bedrooms to avoid the cyclical nonsense of keeping each other awake or waking one another up. Piccolo was certain Vega would be less of a monster if he got more sleep, but that was impossible until the renovation was finished because Getta and Picca always woke obnoxiously early.

It was a relief to Piccolo that Vegeta had a hard ban on children in their bed for more than brief comfort snuggles before they were sent back to their own rooms. None of them needed to nurse at night anymore, which was also a relief. Piccolo was exhausted enough without waking up several times a night to be sucked dry by Saimekian vampire children. Vegeta nursed too, so they alternated, but having so many babies so close had worn Piccolo down, body and mind.

Before Piccolo could ready himself to help Vegeta get adult dinner ready to have with Broly and Nappa, Vegeta found him in the dim hallway. Vegeta rose up on his tiptoes and kissed Piccolo. He murmured, “I want to slam you against this door and fuck you senseless, but it sounds like Picca might actually be out.”

“I think so. Fucking gods, that child is aging me,” Piccolo said and kissed Vegeta more. “But the rest of that sounded fun. Maybe after we’ve decided…” Piccolo wanted to say something glib or witty, but his heart ached. The decision they had to make was so…permanent. Piccolo also wanted to revisit getting sterilized, but he knew Vegeta would be resistant. Vegeta might not want another baby right that moment, but Piccolo suspected that he wanted one at some point and held out hope he could convince Piccolo down the line.

Vegeta tugged on Piccolo’s hand, walking him out into the living room where they could talk more freely. “Love, Broly said he and Nappa are running late, do you…do you want to talk more before we talk to them?”

Piccolo climbed astride Vegeta’s lap where he sat on the couch. He kissed Vegeta more and reached down to rub Vegeta’s fast-rising cock. He whispered, “How late?”

“Mmm…They didn’t say, but we can be fast, can’t we, _minaiya_?”

“With the way I want you, yeah, I think so. I thought it would be easier to go all day without you on my fourth fucking pregnancy, but I thought about you all day. Practice was incredible, my body was moving like when we fuck, like it was trying to make you notice it. Like I was dancing for you even though you weren’t there,” Piccolo breathed and snuck his hand inside Vegeta’s pants.

Vegeta kissed down Piccolo’s neck and said, “Gods, I want you just like this, but I’m afraid the kids will hear.”

“We have a blanket, we’ll just throw that over my ass if they come out,” Piccolo whispered and stood to kick off his pants. Vegeta shifted and pulled his cock out, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. “Gods, Vegeta, I’ll never get tired of seeing your prick ready for me, no matter how tired I am,” Piccolo said and chuckled.

“My prick will always be ready for you, love,” Vegeta growled and pulled Piccolo back down into his lap.

Piccolo teased Vegeta’s head with his sheath, taking just Vegeta’s head inside himself, bobbing up and down, then pulling off completely. “I want to fuck you slow, sexy.”

Vegeta held Piccolo's hips as his head lolled back on the couch and he looked up into Piccolo’s eyes. “Gods, I love you so much. I can get through anything with you, love,” Vegeta purred. His ab muscles tensed as he rolled up into Piccolo. “Fuck you feel good. I missed you today. It was hard to let you go off to work.”

“I missed you too, sexy,” Piccolo breathed and curled over Vegeta to kiss him as they rocked together languidly.

“Hoppi? Why is Daddy in your lap?” Picca asked.

Piccolo tried to keep his face neutral as he yanked a blanket around them to cover their dicks at least. Piccolo wanted to scream, instead he said in his stern-dad voice, “Picca, you’re supposed to be in bed asleep!”

“Can I have a snuggle?” Picca said and started into the living room.

Vegeta said, “Not right now, nugget. Back to bed. Daddy and Hoppi want some alone time.”

“Hoppi…I didn’t get a hug before bed. Daddy wouldn’t let me come out,” Picca whined.

“Picca, if you make me put you back to bed, I’m going to lose my temper. I’ll come in before I go to bed and give you a hug,” Vegeta growled. Piccolo watched Picca as he wrestled with his constant desire to test authority. In general he knew it wasn’t worth going toe-to-toe with Vegeta, but Picca wasn’t a predictable child.

Picca crept closer and Piccolo said, “Damnit, Picca! Go back to bed!”

“No! I want _snuggles_!” Picca snarled and his tail’s fur puffed up.

Vegeta pressed his face into Piccolo’s chest and murmured, “He’s not going to stop. I’ll put him back to bed. Sorry, love.”

Piccolo slid off Vegeta, his sheath pulsing with need. He wrapped the blanket around his waist. Vegeta tucked himself strategically in his pants. He took a huffing breath and planted a hand on the back of the couch before vaulting over and stalking toward Picca. “What did I tell you?”

Picca’s tail lashed back and forth. He bared his fangs at Vegeta, fangs that had recently been too feisty while nursing. Vegeta pointed a finger at him and said, “You put those away, child, or you’ll regret it. I’m not Broly or Nappa. I’ll raise you like a Saiyan if you won’t act like an Earthling.”

Picca was their child that most frequently reminded Piccolo why Saiyan babies were called cubs by most Saiyans. Picca growled and lowered himself, ready to lunge at his father. “Bring it, pup, if you think it will end well for you,” Vegeta snarled and lowered himself into fighting stance.

Picca’s little antennae wobbled. Piccolo knew from experience that meant he was about to burst into tears. His little face crumpled and he ran and wrapped around Vegeta’s legs. “Sorry, Hoppi! I wanted a snuggle!”

“You have to be patient, nugget. I told you I’d give you a snuggle later. Right now Daddy was getting a snuggle and you stole it. That’s not nice, Picca.”

Picca cried and scurried over the back of the couch onto Piccolo. He wrapped himself around Piccolo’s neck and kissed Piccolo’s cheek. “I’m sorry I stole your snuggle, Daddy.”

“You’re okay, nugget. Go on. Go back to bed. Get some sleep so you can have a good day tomorrow,” Piccolo said, patting his little butt as he clambered back over the couch.

Picca at least knew better than to wake his siblings, so he snuck back into the room the three younger children shared. Piccolo sighed and pulled his pants back on, casting a disappointed look at Vegeta. Vegeta hopped back over the couch and knelt on the floor between Piccolo’s legs.

“Gods, why did you want to have so many children, Piccolo?” Vegeta said against Piccolo’s lips and kissed him before Piccolo could respond.

Piccolo laughed through the kiss. Vegeta held him and said, “Fuck. I think a snuggle is as good as we’re going to get before our big brutes get here.”

“He’s your clone. It’s your fault,” Piccolo said and reached into Vegeta’s pants to hold his ass while they indulged in a little frotting.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I wish I’d gotten fucked?”

Vegeta chuckled and kissed his nose. “Likewise, but that isn’t what I meant.”

“I know. I don’t know, Vegeta. I’m stressed about what we’re going to do. We need to decide before the third day or it gets more complicated if…if they don’t…I don’t know. I feel like I hate making hard decisions.”

They heard the growling sound of their Saiyan flat-mates chattering as they approached the door. Broly and Nappa were like two big, excitable dogs when they came home. Broly grinned and said, “Hey, you two, we tell you we’re a few minutes late and you just immediately try to fuck? So shameless. Right on the couch? We sit there too, you know!”

Piccolo and Vegeta each got a half-hug and a kiss on the cheek from each behemoth as they made their way into the kitchen. Vegeta said, “Let’s move out on the balcony, Picca’s feisty tonight and if he hears adult things, he will try to participate.”

“‘Geta, he tried to bite another parent at the park after they chastised Getta for digging a tunnel under the slide. It’s no wonder the humans are scared of us, your offspring are like a pack of wild boars.”

Vegeta smirked and said, “You don’t think I know Picca is a godsdamned terror? I’m trying to rein him in, but I think I’m going to have to go full Saiyan and rumble with him or he’ll never learn to respect his larger, meaner elders.”

“I’m not sure you’d win, ‘Geta,” Nappa said and poured them each a glass of wine.

“Oh you can fuck right off, Nappa, that child plays you like a poorly tuned piano,” Vegeta said and took a huge swig.

“Don’t insult my mate, ‘Geta, or you’ll have to rumble with _me_ ,” Broly said, sipping his wine delicately.

Vegeta chuckled. He finished the glass of wine and poured another. Piccolo raised an eyebrow at him and said, “You looking to strip for me again?”

“Maybe I am, _minaiya_ ,” Vegeta said. He sighed and assessed Broly and Nappa as they dished up enormous plates of food. His eyes slid to meet Piccolo’s. Piccolo nodded. Vegeta said, “Are…are you two still thinking of having your own?”

Both big Saiyans froze mid-chew. They turned to each other with big, dopey, close-lipped grins. Broly said, “Yeah, of course, but there is still the obstacle of neither of us having a womb. Nappa tried to chat up a pregnant woman at the park, but she was horrified when he asked if she wanted the baby.”

“Humans are horrified by everything Saiyan,” Vegeta said with a little scoff.

“Not _all_ humans. Bulma’s good,” Piccolo said, sometimes feeling like the three Saiyans occasionally said “human” but meant “non-Saiyan.”

“Not all humans, no,” Vegeta said and downed another glass of wine without eating a bite.

“Slow down, sexy. I don’t want this to be a drunken conversation,” Piccolo said.

Both Nappa and Broly had been about to take a sip of wine. They narrowed their eyes, then their eyes went wide seeing Piccolo’s wine untouched. Sometimes Piccolo thought it was amazing how perfect they were for each other. Broly looked Piccolo over and said, his voice shaking, “Piccolo, gods, did he knock you up _again_?”

Nappa choked on his wine, spluttering and coughing into a napkin. He said in a rough, wet voice, “ _Vku-sot_ , they’re still in the infertile window. ‘Geta can’t—“

“I can and I did, Nappa, though not on purpose,” Vegeta said, rubbing his forehead with one hand. “We thought we were safely infertile and we were wrong. It’s just one egg.”

Piccolo’s final resistance to the idea melted away when Broly’s eyes filled and he turned with fear and hope to meet Piccolo’s gaze. Piccolo nodded and said, “I’m…I’m not wild about having seven of my own, but…but we thought…we thought, if…if you two are going to stay on anyway…I would like to have a niece or a nephew that got to spend a lot of time with their cousins.”

Piccolo didn’t mean to cry. It upset him to imagine giving his baby away, but seeing Broly so eager to be a father was also heartbreaking. It broke Piccolo's heart remembering his own infertility, but Broly would only be able to have a baby if someone gave him one. Adoption agencies in the city were notoriously biased against Saiyan couples, particularly gay Saiyan couples. Getting a baby was essentially impossible, and getting older children was always uncertain, as they often got taken away after years to go back to their biological parents or relatives. Piccolo and Vegeta were likely Broly’s only hope of having his own child.

Broly’s giant shoulders shook as tears spilled down his cheeks. He turned to Nappa. Nappa smiled and his own tears dripped onto his cheeks. They pressed their foreheads together for a moment. Broly turned back to Piccolo and Vegeta, his eyes leaping back and forth. “I don’t know what to say. Are you sure?”

Vegeta shrugged and laced his fingers with Piccolo’s instead of reaching for his wine again. Vegeta said, “It’s…it’s hard for us, but we…we thought this way we could still love the baby and be there for it, just as you both love and care for our children. But it will be yours. Completely. Your baby. Piccolo said the humans developed a drug that can make you both lactate even, so you can know the joy of new, razor sharp fangs puncturing your nipples.”

The two gigantic Saiyans chuckled and kissed each other. Broly trembled, like even with tears and kissing, too much emotion was still trying to escape his big body. Broly sobbed so hard that he hid his face in Nappa’s shoulder. Nappa said, “We can’t bear it if you aren’t sure. I can’t bear to get excited and then lose it.”

Piccolo shifted uncomfortably. “I mean, I’m a day in, there’s still some chance of miscarriage—“

“Not that, Piccolo, for fuck’s sake,” Nappa said and caressed Broly’s broad back, “I mean, you know, you aren’t going to see it when it hatches and take it back?”

Piccolo looked into Vegeta’s eyes and said, “No, once it’s out of me, I want to give it to you. You can incubate it. Hatch it. We’ll throw you a little hatchling party.” Piccolo turned back to them, waiting to see what they’d say. They cried together. Piccolo smiled at Vegeta. It broke his heart, but filled in the cracks at the same time to be able to give this to their best friends. The only people in the world, besides his mate and children, that Piccolo truly loved.

Vegeta squeezed Piccolo’s hand again and said to Nappa and Broly, “Will…will you two stay here? In the flat? It’s…it’s fine if you don’t want to, but we…we hope…we hope that we can at least…you know…” Vegeta started to cry.

The Saiyans engulfed Piccolo. They wrapped around Vegeta first, but tugged Piccolo into their muscle-bound, tear-snot-damp group hug. He chuckled as they squashed him. “Hey, I’m still pregnant! Easy, you two! Easy!”

They released him. Broly gave Piccolo a big smacking kiss on each cheek and squeezed him again. “Oh, Piccolo, thank you. Thank you. Of course we’ll stay. You two will be the best uncles.”

Piccolo’s sadness was at last overwhelmed by his happiness for Broly and Nappa. Vegeta looked a little downcast. Piccolo said, “It’s okay, right, sexy?”

“Better than that. It’s perfect. Congratulations, you two. You’ll be parents in about thirteen days. You’ll have to help if we have to pull this one, Broly,” Vegeta said.

Broly nodded, holding his mouth as he kept crying. He whispered, “You’ll guard for us, ‘Geta? Once the egg gets here, of course?”

“Naturally. Who else could keep you two safe? Weaklings, the both of you,” Vegeta said with a smirk.

Nappa palmed Vegeta’s skull through his thick hair and kissed his forehead. “Still an asshole. Thanks, ‘Geta.”

Broly’s eyebrows came together in a little peak and he said, “Can…can I feel your belly, Piccolo?”

“Of course, Broly, you never fucking asked when it _wasn’t_ your baby,” Piccolo said and lifted his shirt, “Not much to feel yet.”

“Your tummy is just so fucking cute when he knocks you up. You were gigantic with the triplets,” Broly said, his face pure awe as he spread his big, rough hand on Piccolo’s rock-hard, but slightly rounded belly.

Piccolo said, “Gods, no shit. Hopefully I’ll be less revolting with this one.”

Vegeta snorted and said, “Well, at least I get to enjoy pregnant fucking you again without the feral little consequences.”

Broly quivered in his seat the rest of the meal as they talked about the six Saimekians and how to best explain it to them. Broly looked at Nappa nervously, but Nappa nodded solemnly. Broly turned to Piccolo and said, “If…when…when you’re recovered…and if it…if it goes okay…would you…would you ever…” Broly’s eyes darted to Vegeta. Piccolo had never seen Broly nervous around Vegeta.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow and said, “Are you asking if you can fuck my _minaiya_ , Broly?”

“Not that, ‘Geta, I’m not _stupid_. I meant, you know, we could do it like the human women who have trouble. Would you use my semen?”

Vegeta smirked and said, “I think you should just fuck him. He did want to do that threeway, why not make it a fourway?”

Nappa spit out his wine again. Vegeta’s rumbling laughter almost overcame Piccolo’s dropped jaw. Piccolo finally managed to choke out, “Um, do I get some say over what gets put in my fucking sheath?”

Vegeta kissed him fiercely and said, “Let’s see how this birth goes. We’ll decide about any further eggs after they meet the monster we’ve made. It’s like they don’t know Picca, Vega, or Getta at all.”

Nappa laughed and said, “It’s true, if the trend of your children becoming significantly more Saiyan each time holds, we’re going to have our hands full with just the one.”

Broly looked wounded and said, “My baby is not going to be biting people at the park.”

Vegeta chortled and said, “Half the time you’re the one _with_ my baby when he’s biting people at the park.”

“It’s…shit…I guess it will have your uncivilized genes,” Broly said with a lopsided grin. “Ah well, too late. I already love it.”

“Me too, _vku-sot_ ,” Nappa said and laughed as he downed a glass of wine. “Better drink while we can, we don’t want to do it while we nurse like ‘Geta.”

“Oh fuck you, Picca needs a little alcohol every now and again,” Vegeta said, smirking.

“What’s alcohol, Hoppi?” Picca’s voice said as he trotted out naked onto the balcony.

“Where are your jammies, nugget?” Vegeta said.

“My question first,” Picca said and scuttled into Broly’s lap.

“It’s a drink, but you’re too young. I was teasing. Now where are your jammies? You’re going to get cold with the way you kick off your blankets.”

“I know, that’s why I’m up. Getta has them,” Picca said, rubbing his eye with a little fist. He yawned, baring his needle-like fangs.

“What?” Piccolo said, taking Picca from Broly, and heading toward the babies' room.

“Getta took my jammies,” Picca said and snuggled into Piccolo’s arms. He was asleep before Piccolo even got to their room.

Getta was curled up on the floor on a little mound of fleece: Picca’s jammies. Piccolo didn’t know why, but he wasn’t about to wake either baby to ask how that came to pass. Vega was in a pile of pillows in the corner. None of their beds had sheets, even though they’d had sheets when Piccolo put them to bed. Piccolo sighed, wrapped Picca in a blanket and put him carefully down on his bed, hoping his son would stay asleep.

Piccolo looked around at his sleeping young in their bizarre configurations. His youngest children. His last children. Piccolo’s eyes filled, but he felt better than he expected. Broly and Nappa were great parents, he knew that already, and they deserved a baby. It was something he could give back to them for all their help with his own. Piccolo would have more of himself to give his own six children this way. Piccolo snuck back out of the room. He cried in the hallway, let himself go, but after only a few minutes, took a deep breath, and returned to his dinner companions. He watched them for a minute in secret. Broly and Nappa looked so happy because of him, and Vegeta too, now that it was settled. Even if he was sad and scared, Piccolo was also glad he could help his big, expanded, very Saiyan family in this way. 


	17. The Warren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For lunges27 :D

By the fourth day of Piccolo’s pregnancy, all three Saiyans were panicking more than Piccolo himself. He wasn’t growing. Broly was inconsolable, certain that Piccolo had miscarried. Nappa tried to keep his mate from despair, but Piccolo could see the dread in Nappa’s strained features. Vegeta insisted that they go to Dende that day, so he called and made an appointment.

He and Piccolo walked through the city toward Dende’s. “Sexy, I think if…if it’s not viable, we should try again for them. I feel terrible that we got their hopes up,” Piccolo said, glancing at Vegeta, curious how he’d feel. Piccolo could almost always predict Vegeta’s responses to things, but this was a unique situation.

“Yes. If…if it’s safe. If Dende says it’s not safe for you, we’re done. They can just have Picca,” Vegeta said with a wry smile.

Piccolo laughed hard for the first time since they’d decided to give their baby away. He bent and kissed Vegeta. They squeezed each other’s hands as they walked into Dende’s clinic.

By the time Dende came in, Piccolo was shaking and on the brink of tears. Dende used his usual tools, but his brows were crumpled together in confusion. He said, “I’ll be back momentarily. I need another piece of equipment.”

“Is…is it dead?” Piccolo said, “Are we…are we cleaning it out?” He held his mouth with his free hand. Vegeta crushed his other.

“No, I don’t believe so. But we’ll know in a few minutes for sure. Hold on,” Dende poked his head out and murmured a few words to one of his nurses. A moment later she wheeled something in and Vegeta’s eyebrows shot up.

“An ultrasound? That’s unusual for a Namek pregnancy,” Vegeta said.

“Well, yes. Here, Piccolo, I apologize, this will be chilly,” Dende said and squirted some clear goo on Piccolo’s belly. Dende flipped a few switches and put a curved tool on his belly. White and black blobs appeared on a small screen. Dende flipped another switch and the room filled with a steady, fast whooshing. The sound of a tiny heart.

Vegeta said, “Oh shit,” and stared at the screen.

Piccolo didn’t understand what he was looking at and he said, “Dende? Vegeta? What’s…what’s going on?”

Dende stared, gape-mouthed at the screen for another moment, shifting the wand again. Dende said, “How interesting. I’ve only seen this in a case when I was in school. It’s extremely rare and we’ll have to monitor Piccolo very closely.”

“What’s interesting? What’s happening? Where is the egg?” Piccolo said, scrutinizing the screen.

“You, Piccolo, are going to have your first live birth,” Dende said, as though it made sense to say such a thing to a species that laid eggs.

“What? No, that’s not possible,” Piccolo said.

“I’m afraid it _is_ possible with Saiyans. In a tiny, tiny fraction of Saiyan-Namek hybrids, the Namek experiences a Saiyan pregnancy. You’ll be due in about five months, but they are not as…sure…as eggs. I’d like to see you every two weeks to keep tabs on the baby and you as well. It occasionally causes health side effects in the Namek, but these pregnancies are rare enough that not much is known.”

Vegeta said, “Will he have to have a c-section?”

“No, if anything, the birth should go more smoothly, provided the baby isn’t breach,” Dende said, clicking various things on the ultrasound.

Piccolo panicked. It would be harder to hand off a live baby. But then he thought of Broly and Nappa, pulling themselves together that morning to manage all six of Piccolo and Vegeta’s brood. Broly’s broken expression when he looked at Piccolo’s very slightly rounded belly. No, it would be okay. It would just be a more crowded birthing room.

Piccolo didn’t listen as Vegeta and Dende talked medical details. He stared at the screen. There was a tiny thing, a little kidney bean with stubby arms. A baby. Piccolo wondered how long it would be until he felt it moving inside him. Even now he could see it jerkily moving around the space it had in his womb.

Vegeta helped him get dressed, not because Piccolo needed help, but because Vegeta needed something to do. They walked through the blustery day back to their flat in shocked silence. Piccolo said, “It’ll be okay, right?”

They plodded up a few flights of stairs in quiet. They took the stairs whenever they had time. Vegeta said, “Do…do you think it will be harder to give the baby away?”

“I…yeah…I think so. But I want them to have it. And…I really don’t want a baby, you know? We have six babies. Baby hyenas.”

Vegeta snorted out a little laugh and said, “Too true, love. I’m just in shock that after all our fertility trials both of famine and feast, now this. It’s like your womb is the god of mischief.”

“No shit. Gods. Poor Broly and Nappa, they’ll be so disappointed that you won’t get to guard them,” Piccolo said and he meant it. It was clear both behemoths looked forward to being on the receiving end of guarding, one of the Saiyan things that still baffled Piccolo.

“Nonsense, I’ll just guard them while they nurse the first couple weeks. They’ll get guarded. It’s important,” Vegeta said, offering no explanation of why it was important.

Piccolo heard the noise before they even reached their floor. It was loud and dusty from the construction, which Piccolo had been told would be finished two weeks earlier. He sighed and slumped as they walked in, assaulted by unmuffled noise. Piccolo’s sensitive ears were a curse, at times. “Vegeta…can we go on holiday?”

“You don’t want to practice and do your opening now that you won’t be hugely pregnant and drawn irresistibly to my cock?” Vegeta said, pulling Piccolo down for a kiss.

“I do…I just…don’t want to listen to all this racket. Maybe…maybe we could rent a place for a few weeks, but somewhere just outside the city? I could commute for a couple weeks until they’re done?”

“Oh, love, if you let me out of the city, I’m liable to go feral,” Vegeta said and started tugging at Piccolo’s clothes.

“You are already feral, Vegeta,” Piccolo murmured against his little mate’s lips.

Vegeta hiked Piccolo onto his hips and carried him toward their bedroom. Before they made it, another familiar source of noise returned. The front door flew open and all six babies barreled in, leashed and tumbling over one another, biting and scratching, shouting and making noises that clearly indicated they were cubs. Piccolo hopped off Vegeta with a disappointed sigh. Egg or fetus or nothing, Piccolo always hungered for his mate’s cock.

Vegeta grumbled, “Shit…you off to work, then, love? Now that my plans have been derailed by the untimely return of our young.”

All six of them screeched, “Hoppi! Daddy! We finished our tunnel at the park and it caved in on Brola!”

“Damnit, I told you not to dig any more tunnels! None of you know how to engineer. You’re not burrow animals! It took me forever to fill the last one,” Vegeta said as all of them scrambled up his body, biting and kissing and wrapping their little tails around his limbs. “No fangs! Soft bites!” Vegeta snarled.

Piccolo laughed at his family. Dragging behind all of them was an exhausted looking Nappa, three leash handles in each hand. The extendable leashes had been a good investment. Broly came in with the deflated snack pack—the type of heavy duty thing humans used for camping—which would have lasted a human weeks, but lasted Piccolo’s children one outing. Nappa and Broly kissed his cheek and tossed children out of the way to kiss Vegeta’s.

Their stress was palpable in the air. Piccolo said, “Vegeta, can you get nap-time started and I’ll go update Broly and Nappa?”

Vegeta smirked and said, “That is an unjust allocation of duties.”

The fact that Piccolo had the better job seemed to perk up both giant Saiyans. The three of them went out on the big balcony. Piccolo closed the door even though Picca tried to squish through after them. “I talk too, Daddy?”

“No, nugget, go in with Hoppi. It’s your nap-time and don’t you dare tell me you aren’t tired, your tail is dragging,” Piccolo said and pushed Picca back inside.

Picca sobbed and smushed his face against the glass. He said, “Need hug, Daddy!”

Piccolo was soft and helpless with his children. He opened the door again and tossed Picca in the air. He squeezed Picca and snuffled his head through his tuft of black hair. “Now, no more fussing. Go with Hoppi.”

But the other five caught the scent of Daddy hugs. They each demanded their Daddy-hug, complete with more biting and wet, smacking kisses and little tails whipping Piccolo in the face when they launched off his chest. By the end of it, he felt ready for his own nap, but Broly and Nappa were near to shaking with anxiety. Piccolo slid the door closed again and leaned back against it.

“It’s fine. It’s just…it’s going to be a live birth. I guess it’s really rare, but not unheard of, for Namek-Saiyan pregnancies to go this way. Dende said five months. So…you’ll get your baby, but not your egg. I hope that’s okay,” Piccolo said, still slumping against the glass door, glad that it was at least quieter out on the balcony.

Both big Saiyans squished him in a fierce hug. “Oh for fuck’s sake, you two, you’re going to break me,” Piccolo said.

“Nonsense, you’re made of sturdy stuff, Piccolo. I can’t believe ‘Geta and his crazy sperm. You’ll have to keep him to your ass after this,” Broly said, but his eyes were glistening and his smile was huge.

“Yeah…I don’t think that’s happening. For either of us. Fuck. I’m exhausted. I can’t believe I have to be pregnant five months. Holy shit. But I’m glad it’s okay.”

Nappa met Piccolo’s eyes and said, “Piccolo, are you going to be okay? You know a live birth will be…different.” Nappa white-knuckle-gripped Broly’s hand.

Piccolo sighed. “Yeah. I think it’s going to be hard. But I want you guys to have it. It’ll be rough though. I might…I might be a mess for a few days,” Piccolo said and a line of pain shot up either side of his throat as he tried not to cry.

Broly rubbed his back and said, “The baby will always be…yours…too, you know? We’re just a very…expansive…family.”

“I know. I know. It’s just…different. But I’m serious. I want you two to have this more than anything, I just wish it was an egg so I could pass it off sooner,” Piccolo said with a weak laugh.

Broly said, “I wish I could carry it for you, Piccolo. But we’ll do whatever we can to make it easier. You dancing through the early part? What did Dende say about that?”

“He said I could. I have to go see him every two weeks, but he said it would be different. Less…needy,” Piccolo said, but he wasn’t really happy about that part. Piccolo liked fucking constantly for the better part of two weeks. He always felt so close to Vegeta after a pregnancy.

Broly laughed and said, “Don’t look so down, we’ll still guard and take the kids so you and ‘Geta can have your usual fuck-festival. You’ve earned it, the way that man keeps knocking you up is uncivilized.”

Piccolo chuckled. He said, “We’ll see. He said he’d guard you two for the first few weeks of nursing, so you won’t miss out on guarding, though fuck if I understand any of your Saiyan nonsense.”

Broly made a sour face. “You’re basically Saiyan, Piccolo, just greener. Guarding is important for the parents to bond with each other, then to bond with the baby. You know this.”

“Uh, pretty sure you and Nappa are bonded,” Piccolo said with a snort of laughter.

Nappa gave Broly a huge, helpless smile and said, “He’s got no sense of romance after having to live with Vegeta for a few years—“

Piccolo interrupted, “That is not true! Vegeta is very romantic! I just don’t see how having a couple of scary guys sleep on your couch is romantic!”

Both giants looked perplexed as they stared at him. Broly said, “How is that not romantic? It’s the most romantic thing ever to have your mate be at ease, to not be sleeping with one eye open, their ear to the ground while they fuck you. You’re the weird one, Piccolo, not us!”

Piccolo sighed again. He was surrounded, there was no use in trying to avoid assimilation. “Hey, Vegeta and I were maybe thinking of trying to rent a place for a month or so because the construction noise is driving me crazy. Would that be okay with you two?”

Broly looked horrified. “I want to be around for the pregnancy, Piccolo!”

Piccolo furrowed his eyebrows. “Yeah, I know. I meant for you two to come with us, not stay here. Still on edge I see.”

Broly visibly relaxed and leaned into Nappa. “Sorry. Yeah, I’m so relieved, but now I have five months to be crazy and nesting instead of two weeks. It’s…a lot.”

“Yeah, no shit. Ugh. I’m going to be fat for so long. Vegeta and his fucking sperm,” Piccolo muttered.

“What about me fucking you, love?” Vegeta said, sneaking out onto the balcony. The construction noise all ceased.

“Tell me you didn’t fire the contractor,” Piccolo said, the thought of trying to find someone to take over made him physically ill.

“No, love, good gods, I’m not an idiot. Who else would work in the lion’s den we live in? I told them to go take a nice lunch break so the babies could get a decent nap. I think Picca knows you’re pregnant, he’s being more insane than usual.”

Before Vegeta could say more, Nappa and Broly were crushing him in their arms and chattering happily in Saiyan too fast for Piccolo to understand. He bent and kissed Vegeta, then Nappa and Broly’s cheeks, and said, “I’m off to work. Love you all, have a good day!”

* * *

Piccolo assumed being pregnant for so long would be the worst part of this new Saiyan-style pregnancy. And it might’ve been if he and Vegeta were keeping the baby. Instead, it was Broly who was driving him to the brink of madness.

Broly hovered like an over-protective mother bear on meth. Broly often came to practice with him, worried that somehow he would get hurt again. Nappa obliged Broly and he and Vegeta managed the Saimekian brood while Piccolo was at work with Broly in tow. The brood was easier at the farmhouse Vegeta found and, without consulting Piccolo, bought. It was large and sprawling, had a beautiful yard and a big garden, and sat in the middle of an orchard. It was also blissfully quiet, or it was when the children were outside.

Piccolo grudgingly admitted that it was a good fit for their rambunctious cubs. They could roam more freely off-leash, and dig tunnels, or rather burrows, since within the week they had a rather extensive network. The only rule was nothing under the house or anywhere near the septic system. Piccolo liked lounging on the big screened-in porch in the evenings, listening to their children squabble and expand their warren in the former blueberry field.

Piccolo was a month in and Dende said he had to stop practicing as it would be too hard on his joints. Piccolo dreaded months of inactivity. Months of hovering. Months of three Saiyans needlessly catering to him. Months of fucking guarding.

Broly fussed over him at home too, eager to do everything for Piccolo. After a particularly annoying morning of Broly trying to make sure Piccolo didn’t even have to breathe on his own, Piccolo said, trying not to be snappish, “Broly, I’m going to give this baby to you no matter what. You don’t need to be subservient. I’m sore, and I hate being pregnant, but I’ll let you know if you can help out. I promise. Stop. Please.”

Broly looked wounded, his eyes wide and his brows sloping down at the outside edge. “I’m not helping because you’re giving me the baby! I’m helping because you’re pregnant for the fourth time in three years. Don’t be sullen.”

“I’m not sullen. Fucking hell. Vegeta’s already pointlessly ‘helpful.’ Nappa at least does it from a fucking distance. I’m not an invalid! I’m not even that fat yet. I haven’t—“ Piccolo stopped abruptly. A high noise of surprise escaped him.

Broly scooped him off the couch like a bride and said, almost screeched, “Piccolo? Do you need to go to Dende?!”

“Set me down, damnit! Set me down now!” Piccolo barked.

Broly obeyed and Piccolo yanked up his loose shirt that he’d been wearing to hide his distended belly. He seized Broly’s hand and pressed it high on the left side of the bump. He used Broly’s fingers to poke and Broly squealed as his eyes went wide. “Holy fucking shit, Piccolo!”

Piccolo met his eyes and they both grinned. Piccolo prodded his stomach again and was rewarded with a Saiyan strength kick that made him wince as it pinched his flesh between a sharp baby foot and their hands. Nappa and Vegeta dashed into the room, followed by a tumbling mass of Saimekian children.

Vegeta shoved Broly viciously away from Piccolo and picked Piccolo up. Piccolo sighed and said, “What is wrong with you all that you think picking me up is the appropriate response to anything?! Set me down, sexy!”

“What’s wrong, love? I heard you make a noise and then Broly was alarmed,” Vegeta said, not setting Piccolo down.

“Lay me back on the couch and I’ll show you. But nothing’s wrong. Nothing at all,” Piccolo said.

Broly’s eyes glassed over and he whispered, “Piccolo, can…can Nappa go first?”

“Yeah, of course, it’s his baby. Come here, Nappa,” Piccolo said as Vegeta finally laid him back down on the couch.

Nappa’s eyes filled instantly with tears as Piccolo used his fingers to harass the baby more. It was very obviously Saiyan as it only got feistier the more he poked it. No fight or flight for Saiyans, just fight. After Broly and Nappa had had their fill, Vegeta knelt next to Piccolo with a furrowed, worried brow. Piccolo pressed Vegeta’s hand against his belly. He watched Vegeta’s face carefully and saw what he feared he would see: Vegeta fell in love. Vegeta felt one little punch and his whole demeanor changed.

Vegeta’s eyes swung up from Piccolo’s belly to his face, wide and terrified, and he murmured, “Oh, _minaiya_ , it’s…” He trailed off, staring into Piccolo’s eyes as Piccolo gave him a tiny shake of his head. Tears dripped down Vegeta’s cheeks and he said, “It’s their baby.”

Vegeta hopped up and left the room quickly. Piccolo flopped his head back on a cushion. This was not good. He could barely give his baby away if he had Vegeta backing him up. He would never be able to do it if Vegeta changed course.

Piccolo’s children all clamored to feel the baby too. They had taken it in stride that the baby was Nappa and Broly’s, not Piccolo and Vegeta’s, and Piccolo was jealous how easily that shifting form of love came to his children. They were so simple in their desires and needs. Brola went last, absolutely covered head to toe in mud as the lead excavator in their extensive burrow network, and she laid her ear on Piccolo’s belly.

“Daddy, can they talk yet?”

“No, honey-pie, not yet. They’ll have to be out for a bit to learn to talk,” Piccolo said, caressing his daughter’s gritty cheek.

“Will the baby love us?”

“I hope so, but we’ll have to wait and see. But we’ll love the baby, right?”

“Yes! And Broly and Nappa will be good daddies for the baby.”

“Yeah, they will, won’t they?” Piccolo said and he hesitantly met the big Saiyans’ eyes.

They both looked sympathetic. Piccolo appreciated that. He feared they would be angry about Vegeta’s small meltdown, but he should have known better. No two cinnamon rolls had ever been as soft and sweet as Nappa and Broly, murderous though they appeared.

Broly bent and kissed Piccolo’s cheek. “Thanks, Piccolo. That was magical.”

“Of course, anytime you want. Just…mellow. You’re driving me fucking crazy,” Piccolo said and swatted his shoulder.

Nappa laughed and said, “I told you, you need to settle down. Go work on the nursery here or in the city. I’ll help out if Piccolo needs something or if Vegeta gets overrun by his own pack of wild dogs.”

Broly kissed Nappa and said, “I’ll just go paint. I can’t believe ‘Geta bought this place without talking to any of us.”

Piccolo snorted. “Really? I can. I knew he’d find some way to have his yard. I’m going back into the city once I’m done being pregnant. Or sooner if the flat gets finished. Vegeta said the electrician is there today, but that there’s all kinds of weird shit they have to fix.”

Broly glanced at Nappa and Nappa nodded. Broly said, “You know, Piccolo, if…if they get it done before you’re due…we could keep the kids here for a week or so and you and ‘Geta could go have your Namekian mating ritual in the city. It’s been a long time since you two have really gotten to go at it without interruption.”

Piccolo thought that sounded delightful, but a vision of Vegeta kissing up his belly, caressing it as they made love, loving it with his hands and his mouth, rose in Piccolo’s mind. Piccolo could hear the way Vegeta always talked during their mating ritual. The way he claimed that fertility. The way he talked about their baby. And how excited he got for the baby to be born. Piccolo didn’t think that was wise for this particular pregnancy.

“We’ll see how Vegeta’s doing. He might go full country and I’ll never get him in the city again and we’ll have renovated our whole fucking floor for nothing,” Piccolo said, trying to sound glib.

Both Saiyans looked suddenly nervous. Piccolo knew they’d seen Vegeta’s reaction too. There was no point in trying to pretend it might not be a struggle for Vegeta to let go of a baby that came out of Piccolo with a face and tiny hands and feet and a little tail. Piccolo wrestled with his own feelings daily, but he was very over having babies to care for, whereas Vegeta was not. He knew that Vegeta felt it was unfair that the baby they agreed to give away ended up being the only live birth they had had. Likely the only one they ever would. Because unless Nappa and Broly wanted another, Piccolo wanted to be sterilized.

* * *

Piccolo didn’t understand why he had to fight Vegeta to go into the city for a long weekend with Piccolo. Piccolo was three months along and in prime fucking time with a big, but not gigantic, belly, a libido like he drank Viagra shakes for breakfast, and the renovations were finished at last. Piccolo wanted to see them anyway. Piccolo had also told Bulma he’d come to her show that night.

“Why are you fighting me on this, sexy? What’s so terrible about a little break from the monsters? We haven’t been on a date in ages. Not since before Getta and Vega hatched, really. Please?”

“I…are…” Vegeta stammered and took a deep breath. He spoke more surely, but he didn’t meet Piccolo’s eyes. “I am afraid of what it will do to me to…to…to have it be like your other pregnancies. To…mate like Nameks,” Vegeta said, his face downcast.

“Oh, Vegeta, my love, we…we can’t go back on our word. Do you even know what that would do to them?”

“No, I…of course I would never do that, _minaiya_. Just…since the baby’s been kicking, I feel…broken. I don’t want a baby right now, Piccolo, not really, but my instincts do and it’s challenging. I’m afraid doing more things that make those instincts stronger is going to destroy me even more. Make it even more brutal when the day comes.”

Piccolo wrapped his arms under Vegeta’s ass and lifted him up to Piccolo’s face. He bumped foreheads with Vegeta. Piccolo made a snap decision and said, “We can have another, if you want.”

“What?” Vegeta said, his eyes going wide.

“If it will make you feel better, we can have our own after this one. Would that make you feel better?”

“No, Piccolo. No. I…no. I told you I’d be done after six. And I am. It’s just hard to feel…that it’s alive…and know that I have to say goodbye to it.”

“I know. I know. I’m struggling too, sexy. But this…us going out together, this will help you and I reconnect. You’ve been distant since the first kick. I need you, Vegeta. We need to be in this together. I want to go have a good time away from our feral children and Broly’s hovering and Nappa’s incessant baking. Please? Please come fuck me for three days straight? Maybe get some good takeout? Maybe, just maybe, go out for a bagel and coffee one morning? Please?”

Vegeta slid back down over Piccolo’s belly and placed his hands on either side. Immediately he received a kick and a punch. He laughed. “Alright, _minaiya_ , alright. I’ll come fuck you for three days straight. And of course we can have bagels. I don’t care how much that big, bald bastard bakes, his bagels are awful.”

“I know, he should really apprentice at a bagel place if he’s going to insist on baking all the damn time,” Piccolo said and smirked down at his little mate. He kissed Vegeta and trailed his claws along Vegeta’s jawline on both sides. “I’m sorry my body betrayed us doubly with this, Vegeta. I guess we should have waited to offer it to them.”

“No, love. I don’t regret it. Not really. I’m happy for them. It’s just…hard.”

Piccolo grinned more broadly and slipped his hand over Vegeta’s groin, rubbing up and down. “I can make it harder…”

Vegeta laughed and tugged Piccolo down to kiss him more. Vegeta didn’t waste any time and he shoved his hand into Piccolo’s pants. He played with Piccolo until Piccolo pleaded, “I want to fuck you so badly, Vegeta. Please.”

“Yes, love, yes,” Vegeta gasped and turned around shoving his pants down, but instantly yanking them back up when he saw that a very filthy Getta stood in the doorway. “Fuck,” Vegeta snarled, “Getta, what are you doing in Daddy and Hoppi’s bedroom? You’re supposed to be outside playing!”

“Hoppi, part of our tunnel caved in and Peta is trapped, can you help?”

Vegeta and Piccolo sprinted out to where they could see an alarmingly large, sunken area. “Where, Getta? Where’s Peta?”

Piccolo saw their other four young all completely covered in dirt, even more than usual. Brola waved Vegeta over and he leapt the remaining distance, landing next to their eldest daughter. “Where’s Peta, Brola?”

“He fell, Hoppi, look!”

Piccolo jumped then too and gazed down where Brola pointed. At least ten feet down, Peta laid, half-covered in rubble, motionless, a big rock on his lower body. Piccolo said, “Go find Broly and Nappa now,” to Brola and then turned to Vegeta, “Hold me by my ankles, I think I can reach him.”

“Love, you’re preg—“

“Shut up and do it, Vegeta! I can’t tell if he’s breathing!” Piccolo snapped.

Vegeta let Piccolo clamber down the steep slope, using his arms to keep his weight off his belly, but he flopped on his side to extend his arms to their full length. He shouted back toward Vegeta, “Stretch, your arms, Vegeta, I can almost reach him!”

Vegeta lowered him farther and Piccolo shoved the big rock off his baby. Peta was unconscious. Piccolo turned again and cried, “Vegeta, do you think we should call paramedics in case he broke his neck or back?”

Piccolo held his hand in front of Peta’s nose and mouth and felt air coming out, if shallowly. He touched Peta’s pulse point on his throat and felt it was steady too. Vegeta said, “Can you wake him?”

“Peta!” Piccolo yelled and touched Peta’s cheek.

Peta’s eyes fluttered open and he coughed a big load of dirt into Piccolo’s face. He moaned and said, his voice gritty and small, “Daddy, I’m hurt.”

“Where does it hurt, pumpkin? Daddy’s here, you’re going to be fine. Just tell Daddy where it hurts so we can decide if we should call a doctor, okay?”

“My leg, Daddy. I think my leg is broken,” Peta said, and began to cry.

Piccolo couldn’t help his relieved tears when Peta pushed up into a seated position. He shoved more dirt off his legs. Piccolo said, “Can you bend them?”

Peta cried more but bent both legs so they were visible, and Piccolo saw blood all over the shin of his left leg. The whole pant leg was soaked. “Okay, pumpkin, I’m going to pick you up and Hoppi’s going to pull us out. I’m going to be as careful as I can, okay?”

Peta nodded and as soon as Piccolo slid his arms under his baby, Peta curled tightly against him, wrapping his little arms around Piccolo’s neck. Piccolo breathed his baby’s scent and called, “Pull us out, Vegeta!”

Vegeta eased Piccolo back out of the hole and Piccolo’s ankles were transferred to bigger, meatier hands. When he got close to the surface, Nappa’s giant hands tried to take Peta from him. Piccolo’s flare of possessive, protective rage almost made him bite Nappa, but he took a shaky breath and gently handed his toddler to the hulking, worried Saiyan.

Vegeta swung Piccolo’s torso upright and Broly lowered his feet to the ground. “Okay, love?” Vegeta whispered as they crouched near Nappa to reclaim Peta. Vegeta took him from Nappa and Piccolo carefully removed the blood soaked pants, fully expecting to see a compound fracture.

Peta’s skin was badly shredded on his shin and he had a huge, deep gash on his ankle that would require stitches, but there was no break that they could see. Vegeta put him through some basic movement tests and Piccolo saw his little mate relax. If there were breaks, they were minor. The shin was already healing, so they wanted to clean it before his Namek blood made his skin heal around the debris.

Vegeta rushed him into the house. Piccolo herded the other kids toward the house and said, “You guys hose each other off before you come inside. Good job coming to get Hoppi and Daddy right away.”

All five children began to wail about their lost tunnel. Piccolo had no bandwidth for their whining and growled, “Hey! Enough! What’s the fun part, digging or having a tunnel?”

They all looked at one another. They began squabbling and Piccolo sighed. “No! Stop! You can always dig another tunnel. You need to fill that hole in first though. Do you want to do that today or tomorrow?”

“Daddy?” Brola said, “Can we watch a movie so Peta can rest?”

Piccolo nodded and said, “If you all get really clean and get in jammies, we can watch a movie. But _only_ if you’re really, really clean.”

They began gleefully stripping until they were all naked and spraying each other with the hose as they spread their toes and fingers and held their heads upside down to get the dirt out of their hair and ears. Broly said, “I got this, Piccolo. Go help ‘Geta with Peta. You okay?”

Piccolo appreciated that Broly didn’t even glance at his belly. He meant Piccolo, not the baby. “Yeah, I’m fine. Relieved. Baby’s good too. Though rather aggressively kicking my bladder.”

Broly laughed and waved him off. Piccolo hurried in to pee in the master bath, where Vegeta cleaned Peta up in their big tub. He got a better look at the wounds now that Peta was slightly less covered in dirt. It was a mess on the front of his leg. Vegeta said, “Love, can you get a couple suture kits out of the cabinet. You’ll have to hold our brave boy with his vicious fangs while I stitch up that ankle. It’s almost clean.”

“Nah, Piccolo, I’ll hold the little guy so he doesn’t elbow your belly or any other part of your baby-abused body. You can go put something up on the big screen for the cubs,” Nappa said as he strolled into the bathroom.

“I can do it, Nappa, you—“

“Love, he’s right. An angry Saimekian elbow to your belly might be excruciating with as taut as you are,” Vegeta said.

Piccolo rolled his eyes and got Vegeta’s supplies. He kissed the top of Peta’s head. “You okay if Nappa holds you, Peta?”

“Yeah, Daddy. Can I have a cuddle afterwards if I’m brave?” Peta said, craning back with big, hopeful eyes.

“Even if you’re a complete crybaby, pumpkin,” Piccolo said and kissed the tip of his nose.

Piccolo found a long movie that he hoped would carry them right to dinner. He would get over it, but he didn’t want his young out of his sight again that afternoon. His adrenaline still soared even remembering Peta’s lifeless body down in that hole.

A squealing, naked mass of green and golden little bodies came tumbling into the house through the back door. Piccolo hurried for towels and started drying them off, tossing a couple towels to Broly as he trailed in last. “Hey, you lot, settle down. Dry off. Then jammies. Yeah? Don’t make Uncle Broly mad,” Broly said and winked at Piccolo.

They were shockingly clean, but Piccolo smelled soap, so Broly must’ve run an intensive assist. Vega and Picca were snarling and gnawing on one another as they somersaulted across the floor together. Piccolo bit out, “Cut that out, you two! You’re both bleeding all over the floor!”

Picca lunged and bit Vega’s shoulder one last time and Piccolo snarled, bearing fangs, “You need to rumble, Picca? You better fix that!”

Picca’s face scrunched up, followed almost immediately by antennae trembles and tears as he wailed, “Sorry, Vega! Are you okay?” Picca threw his little arms around his younger brother and kissed the biggest wound.

“I’m okay, Picca. Stop slobbering on me!”

Once they were dry, Piccolo returned to Peta. Vegeta was almost done stitching him and to Piccolo’s amusement, Peta wasn’t crying, just berating Vegeta for being slow. He was worried he’d miss the start of the movie. “Pumpkin, we’ll wait for you to start. Stop being rude to Hoppi,” Piccolo said.

Vegeta tied off the last stitch and swatted Peta’s butt as he scampered off to get in his pajamas. Nappa looked like he was going to linger, but seemed to suddenly realize that Vegeta and Piccolo needed to talk. The big man waved and left them.

Vegeta ran a tired, bloody hand over his face. “Fuck, love, I don’t think I can go into the city after that fiasco. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay, I was just coming to ask if I should text Bulma that we’re not coming.”

“I…Piccolo…I know I’m being insane, but I can’t stop myself. Please don’t be mad,” Vegeta said and shoved his face into Piccolo’s pecs.

“No, sexy, I want to stay with the kids anyway after that. That was terrifying. Gods, there’s no reining them in, but obviously this type of shit is only going to happen more and more as they get stronger and more independent. I guess at least they’ll all try to keep each other safe,” Piccolo said and ran his hands up and down Vegeta’s back. “You want to have a quickie before we go watch with them?” Piccolo gripped Vegeta’s ass.

Vegeta smirked up at him and reached to lock the door. He murmured, “Can I bend you over in the shower, love?”

“Of course, sexy. You can bend me over anywhere. Maybe you’ll humor me this weekend and at least let Nappa and Broly take the kids so we can fuck a lot, if not constantly,” Piccolo said, peeling Vegeta out of his muddy, bloody clothes. Vegeta returned the favor and they stepped into their shower, which was too small, but Vegeta already had renovations lined up for when they went back into the city. Piccolo still had to tamp down his financial panic every time Vegeta did unnecessary, expensive things.

Vegeta scrubbed Piccolo’s body. Piccolo was filthier than he’d realized from going after Peta. Piccolo cleaned Vegeta too, his mouth trailing everywhere after he rinsed his little mate. “Vegeta…gods…why haven’t you been touching me?”

Vegeta pulled Piccolo’s mouth to his. He said, between kisses, “I want to fuck you all the time. You seem so uncomfortable though, so I’ve been trying to leave you alone.”

“Well knock it off. I don’t want you to leave me alone. I’m all riled up all the time and you keep putting me off. Am I just too gross?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Piccolo, no. You know I love fucking you while you’re pregnant. I’ve just been out of sorts with everything. I’ll fuck you properly through the rest of your pregnancy,” Vegeta said with a smirk.

Piccolo dropped to his knees and spun Vegeta around, running a flat hand down his mate’s spine. “Maybe, but right now I want to fuck you. Let me see if I can get your riled up, sexy,” Piccolo purred and his tongue twisted against Vegeta’s pucker. Vegeta gasped and reached to pull himself open for Piccolo. Piccolo moaned against his little mate as he tongued him harder.

Piccolo reached around Vegeta to stroke his cock, plunging his tongue inside Vegeta. Vegeta groaned, “Oh, fuck, love…”

“I will. Let me enjoy myself,” Piccolo whispered. He ran his hand up and down Vegeta’s cock faster as he tongue-fucked Vegeta roughly.

Vegeta panted and twitched, rocking alternately into Piccolo’s fist and against his mouth. Piccolo growled, “Come for me, my mate.”

Vegeta stifled the cry that tried to erupt out of him as Piccolo pushed him over the edge. Vegeta’s ass spasming made Piccolo eager to be inside him and he knew soon the kids would bother them. He stood and lubed himself. “You ready?” Piccolo said, nudging against Vegeta’s blissfully trembling ass.

“Gods, yes, fuck me rough, love. So hard, please, pound me,” Vegeta gasped. He braced himself on the wall.

Piccolo drove himself into Vegeta and held his hips as he started to move. The hot, seizing grip of Vegeta’s ass was so divine on Piccolo’s cock that he had to bite his tongue a little to pull back from the edge of his climax. He kept one hand on Vegeta’s hip so he didn't bounce off Piccolo’s powerful thrusts. He smacked Vegeta’s ass with his other hand.

Vegeta threw his head back and hissed, “Fuck yes, love! Fuck me!”

Piccolo couldn’t kiss or bite Vegeta’s back like he wanted thanks to his big belly, but he could drill into Vegeta, pushing his back down even more. Vegeta was flexible, thankfully. “Down, sexy, grab your ankles so I can rail you without hitting my stomach.”

Vegeta didn’t answer, but obeyed and Piccolo rammed into him, holding him upright in the steam and the spray. Vegeta moaned, “Fuck, Piccolo, I can’t…I can’t hold on!”

Piccolo saw Vegeta’s pearly cum swirling around their feet. “Fuck, Vegeta, oh gods, your ass!” Vegeta’s ass clamped down on Piccolo’s cock so tightly that Piccolo groaned and filled Vegeta, semen squelching out around Piccolo's prick as he continued to pump into his mate, who shuddered and cried out, spurting a final time.

Piccolo slapped Vegeta’s ass, but kept his cock buried in his mate as Vegeta stood back up. Piccolo pulled him back, making his spine arch over Piccolo’s belly. Vegeta smirked as he curled over Vegeta and kissed him upside down. Piccolo was making himself hard again, caressing Vegeta’s exquisite body. Vegeta eased off Piccolo’s cock and turned around in his arms.

They kissed more. Vegeta turned Piccolo around and laughed. “I need a little stool to reach you when you’re this pregnant.”

“I can still squat, sexy,” Piccolo said, glancing over his shoulder.

Vegeta spread his hands on Piccolo’s belly and said, “I can help you balance, love.”

A flurry of knocks rattled the bathroom door. “Daddy! Hoppi! Hurry! We want to start the movie and you told Peta he could have a cuddle!”

Their offspring began hitting the door with enough force that Piccolo knew there wouldn’t be a second round. He sighed and called, “On our way, guys. Go get some snacks!”

They toweled off quickly and Vegeta groped Piccolo’s ass. “Love, I’m having you later. No matter how tired you are.”

“I hope so, sexy,” Piccolo said, giving Vegeta a final kiss before they emerged to the chatter and chaos of their children all trying to talk at once. Piccolo herded them out of the bedroom and said, “Go on, let me get _my_ jammies on.”

Picca said, “You don’t wear jammies, Daddy,” with a little giggle as he shimmied up Piccolo’s body and onto his shoulders.

“Hoppi doesn’t like it when Daddy wears jammies,” Piccolo said, smirking at Vegeta.

Vela said, “That’s because Hoppi likes your bum, Daddy! Just like Uncle Nappa likes Uncle Broly’s bum!”

Vegeta’s rumbling laugh made Piccolo smile more broadly. “Indeed, I do. But Hoppi and Daddy still want to put on something to watch the movie with our little meerkats.”

“We are meerkats!” Picca called and held his hands up like little paws and started making a sound remarkably similar to a meerkat’s bark.

Piccolo and Vegeta each pulled on a pair of sweats and followed their offspring out to the big L-shaped couch they had around the big flat-screen. Broly and Nappa were curled together kissing on one end. Piccolo and Vegeta curled into the corner and all the children piled around them, forgetting about snacks in their determination to claim the best spots on their fathers.

Piccolo smiled at Vegeta over the writhing mass of Saimekians. It wasn’t so bad to miss their weekend. Being here with their young was sweet too.


	18. Family

Piccolo wondered, as his due date drew near, whether his labor would be as horrific as it was with his eggs. Whether it would attack him in the same way. It also occurred to him that Vegeta might not be able to fuck him through it when it was a live, soft-headed baby making its way down his _theadur_.

Dende was uncertain how his labor would proceed, whether he’d go early, or late. It was nerve-wracking enough for Piccolo on his own, but with three anxious, touchy-feely Saiyans, and a his passel of Saimekians that were all absorbing the general mood of their caregivers, Piccolo was going to lose his shit. In theory he had three days left. He was miserable. He was huge. He rarely had a moment where someone wasn’t touching him, and it was even more rarely sexy touches. Vegeta seemed terrified of breaking him rather than fucking Piccolo the way he wanted to be fucked. It was all maddening.

Piccolo crawled into bed that night early, before Vegeta had even finished putting the babies down. Broly and Nappa were out on a date at Piccolo’s insistence, both with their mobiles on high volume and vibrate. Broly looked terrified to go out, like he thought Piccolo might abscond in his absence. Broly’s general paranoia the entire pregnancy had been frustrating and insulting to Piccolo. Now that he was in the final, miserable stretch of pregnancy with a new sort of labor ahead of him, Piccolo felt even more wounded by it.

He curled around his big belly as he laid on his side. The baby was feisty, punching Piccolo mercilessly in the bladder like it was a speed bag. Piccolo ran his hands over his taut tummy and said, “Pretty soon you’ll be able to punch someone else, huh?”

Piccolo startled as Vegeta murmured, “Does the baby answer, love?” He kissed down the back of Piccolo’s neck.

“You scared me, sexy, I thought you'd still be putting the kids down. Did you just duct tape Picca to his bed?”

Vegeta chuckled and wrapped around Piccolo from behind, sliding his hand over the constantly shifting mound of Piccolo’s belly. They’d come back to the city two weeks earlier to be closer to the Namekian birth center, and neither the children nor Vegeta had adjusted well. Piccolo missed the quiet and he had grown used to gardening and leisurely walks around their property. But he was glad to be back, mostly, and it wasn’t like they couldn’t go spend a few days at the farmhouse whenever they liked once Piccolo had had the baby. 

Vegeta sucked and nipped and kissed over Piccolo’s skin with intention now, his hand straying lower on Piccolo’s belly. Piccolo squirmed under Vegeta’s heated touch. Vegeta whispered, “I can’t wait to have you all to myself again.”

Piccolo rolled over and looked into Vegeta’s eyes. They were…conflicted. “Yeah?”

“Yes. We’re doing the right thing, love. It will be hard, I’m sure. But it’s the right thing,” Vegeta said and his eyes never wavered from Piccolo’s. “But for now, something else is hard, and I would very much like to do the right thing about that.” He pulled Piccolo’s hand down on his hard-on. Piccolo took it eagerly in his hand, sweeping his thumb back and forth over Vegeta’s slit as pre-cum dripped out of him.

Vegeta’s tail coiled around Piccolo’s thigh, caressing him for a moment, before nuzzling between Piccolo’s legs to his sheath. Heat radiated out from Piccolo’s pelvis as Vegeta’s tail pressed harder, released, and drove inside him.

A hot gush of liquid made both of them cry out in surprise. Piccolo said, “Oh shit! I—I don't know what—shit—am—oh, gods, shit, am I going into labor?” Fear and sadness swamped Piccolo that he would really have to relinquish his child. These vicious little kicks would be the last he ever felt.

The tears that erupted out of Piccolo startled Vegeta anew. “Love? Are the contractions starting already?”

“No! I’m just…sad. I’m sure they’ll start soon. Should we call Broly and Nappa?” Piccolo choked out.

“Not yet, love. I’ll call Dende in a few minutes. Let’s…let’s have our last moments with it as our baby. Let’s…say goodbye,” Vegeta whispered and tears slipped down his cheeks.

Piccolo and Vegeta twined their arms and legs around each other’s, and kissed. Vegeta ducked his head between them and kissed Piccolo’s big belly. “Soon, little one, you’ll have two new, very loving fathers. They’ll take good care of you. We’ll always love you though,” Vegeta said against the tight skin. 

“Always, you feisty little bladder killer. And all your cousins will show you how to get into mischief and stress out your new fathers. You’ll have the best time.”

Vegeta pressed his lips to Piccolo’s tummy hard enough that the baby kicked him. He laughed through his tears and Piccolo pressed the side of his belly to get another little kick. “Goodbye, baby,” Piccolo whispered.

“Goodbye, little monster,” Vegeta said with a final squeeze and a kiss. “Love, do you want to try, before you get any farther into labor?”

“I’m not sure, Vegeta. Dende wasn’t sure whether it was safe, and he talked to some of his professors who weren't sure either. No one really seems to know. We probably shouldn’t risk it. Dende said the big issue would be the risk of infection for me,” Piccolo said, kissing Vegeta softly.

Vegeta gripped Piccolo’s cock and began moving his hand up and down the shaft. He purred, “And your cock, love? Are you having contractions, or can I at least get you off a final time before we’re forced into hiatus?”

Piccolo’s prick strained for more friction from Vegeta’s light grip. Piccolo’s contractions were present, but he and Vegeta had had so much labor-sex, that his contractions almost primed him to expect an orgasm. Piccolo grinned and shifted to stroke Vegeta roughly. He said, “Sexy, I want to get off, but then I think we should call them. Broly’s been a hot mess as is, he’ll probably implode if he’s not here being a doula. Gods, Vegeta, I really wish you could fuck me rough. I wish I was laying an egg so we could at least have crazy, intense, labor sex.”

“Gods, love, me too. I could fuck your ass?” Vegeta said, groaning and bucking into Piccolo’s hand. “I’m rather…pent up.”

“I’ve been practically begging for every godsdamned touch, Vegeta, and it kind of pisses me off that _now_ you’re suddenly willing,” Piccolo said, withdrawing his hand. His anger at Vegeta was melding with his grief over giving up his child, making a very volatile compound. Piccolo’s eyes burned and he shoved Vegeta away.

Piccolo stood up to go get towels to clean up the mess in the bed, thankful they had invested in a waterproof mattress pad after the gore of one of Piccolo’s labor’s destroyed a mattress. Piccolo gave Vegeta a dark look. Vegeta hopped up and Piccolo stripped the bed, clamping a towel between his legs to stem the flow of his water. A sudden, excruciating contraction ripped through him, spiking up from the minor, smaller contractions he’d had since his water broke.

Piccolo hissed in a breath, bent over the bare bed to ride it out, and waddled back to the bathroom. Vegeta rubbed his back, his cell phone in one hand. Piccolo heard Broly snap, “We’re on our way,” before Vegeta even uttered a word. Vegeta hung up and said, “Love, I think we should head to—“

Piccolo collapsed with the pain of the next contraction. He caught himself enough that he didn’t land on his belly, but he writhed on the cold tile floor. None of his other labors had felt this way. These contractions felt more like something inside him was rupturing. He mumbled, “Dende, now, Vegeta, now, something’s wrong.”

Piccolo didn’t exactly pass out but the pain was blinding and sent his back muscles spasming so hard that he couldn't control himself as he hit his head on the side of the tub. He screamed. The contraction never seemed to relent, but as he tried to move his body in any way that would give him relief, he saw he was right, the clearish fluid that came out of him before was now vivid, thick, red blood.

Vegeta spoke to Piccolo, but he couldn’t focus on what he was saying. Vegeta picked Piccolo up, wrapped him up in a blanket. Piccolo heard his little mate talking to others. Vegeta almost dropped Piccolo with the next back-breaking attack by his body. Piccolo groaned in misery and went rigid, but felt blood pulse out of him. Piccolo didn’t think he had much more blood. The blanket was soaked and cold as they reached the night air. In Piccolo’s spasmodic, jerky movements, he saw Vegeta’s pants were drenched all down the front. 

Broly loomed over Piccolo, but Piccolo’s eyelids became so heavy that he couldn’t see anymore. He was so cold, and the next contraction rent him apart, but his body seemed too exhausted to move already. The rush of air over his body made him wonder if he was falling from some great height, but it stopped and there was burning, cold light. Piccolo tried to blink, but he couldn’t keep his eyes open as more voices made his head throb.

The next several contractions were accompanied by unknown shouts and Piccolo began to wail when he realized he was no longer in Vegeta’s arms. Vegeta’s voice came in his ear though, as Piccolo tried to find his way back to full, functional consciousness. Piccolo felt lost though, and every time he almost got his bearings, another contraction would rip him in half.

Dende was there and there was more hurried talk and people moved Piccolo. When he could keep his eyes open long enough, he always saw Vegeta. Vegeta spoke to him, but it was so hard to focus on anything but the pain. Piccolo thought that this time would be the end. He was going to die for a child that wasn’t even his. Piccolo gasped, “Bring the babies, I want to say goodbye to the babies,” to Vegeta in one of the short breaths between contractions.

“The fuck I will! You’ll hold on and say goodbye to them when they go off to college!” Vegeta snarled and kissed Piccolo fiercely in the moment a new, rippling surge of agony bit into Piccolo.

“Piccolo, you’re almost dilated, we’ve stemmed the hemorrhage and you’re getting a transfusion now, but pushing might prove disastrous. I think we should pull the baby,” Dende said over Piccolo’s screaming.

Big hands massaged Piccolo’s back as he writhed. Piccolo crushed Vegeta’s hands in his own. Piccolo remembered when Vegeta pulled the egg. That had been horrific. But every moment of this labor was horrific so Piccolo huffed out, barely able to speak, “Do it, get it out of me.”

It was Vegeta who held him this time, with Broly’s help. The pain was terrible, but Dende had smaller hands and a baby was more streamlined than an egg. Dende made a last heave and Piccolo felt relief from suffering for a heartbeat when he saw the beautiful face of his son, a golden skinned baby with wild black hair, a velvety black tail, and sweet little antennae squashed flat to his skull. The infant opened his mouth and gave a Saimekian bark, so like a seal pup, that Piccolo laughed. 

Dende almost handed him to Piccolo, but Piccolo clenched his eyes shut and said, “To Broly,” as tears poured out of him. Another contraction hit Piccolo and he screamed, “What the fuck!?”

“You’ll have to deliver the afterbirth. One quick push should do it,” Dende said.

Piccolo felt the urge to push, obeyed his body, and passed out.

* * *

The first thing Piccolo saw when he woke up, was a pile of his own seal-pups. All six of his children were asleep in a nest on the floor next to the bed. Piccolo was home, back in their flat. His lip trembled at the sound that woke him up: the snuffling cry of a hungry, infant Saimekian. His pecs absolutely burned. Dende warned him when he was pregnant that it would be several days before his body got the message that he wasn’t nursing.

Piccolo tried to sit up, but his lower body felt like all the parts were connected incorrectly, possibly with barbed wire. He didn't want to wake the babies, but Piccolo’s thirst was overpowering. His need for water pulsed in his brain, but he didn't feel like he could get up to get it. He pushed up with his arms and fireworks of pain went off in his abdomen.

“Love? You awake?” Vegeta mumbled and Piccolo rolled his head to see where Vegeta was, as he wasn’t in the bed. Vegeta popped up from the floor on the other side.

“Hey, sexy, is…is the baby okay?” Piccolo whispered, momentarily able to delay his need for water.

“He’s doing great,” Vegeta said, but his eyes were downcast and his smile was sad.

“I’m so thirsty, Vegeta, would you please get me some water?”

Vegeta was back in seconds with a big bottle of ice water. Piccolo chugged as quietly as he could. Vegeta slid into the bed next to him, but didn’t touch him. When Piccolo finished the entire bottle, he took a deep breath. Even that lit some sparklers. He swallowed and said, “Am I…okay?”

“Dende thinks so. He strongly advised that we wait at least eighteen months to get pregnant again, but…I…love…I think…I think we should, you should, if…I just…”

“Can I get sterilized, Vegeta?” Piccolo said softly, hoping that Vegeta was stammering his way toward that suggestion.

“Oh, yes, thank the gods, I was afraid this would make you want another baby,” Vegeta said.

“Will Broly and Nappa be okay with one?” Piccolo said, “I…I don’t want to be selfish about it.”

“Piccolo, for fuck’s sake, it’s your body, it’s hardly selfish to not want to go through that again for a child that isn’t even yours,” Vegeta said, his face collapsing into a deep frown.

“I know. But…they’re like family. I want them to be happy. It seems unlikely that I’d have another live birth.”

“We can talk to them, but you’re not getting pregnant anytime soon no matter what. I’ll bottom for a year and a half if it means your poor fucking body has a chance to recuperate. Too many fucking pregnancies in too short a time, love.”

“It’s not like we meant to do that. Fucking Zarbon probably caused this bullshit too with whatever he did to me,” Piccolo spat. He tried to turn away from that though, not wanting to dwell on all Zarbon had taken from them. “Sexy, why were you sleeping on the floor?”

“Oh, yes, because the cubs wanted to sleep in bed with you and I told them no one could sleep with you because you needed to rest. They…are rather literal. They refused to sleep at all if I tried to sleep with you. It wasn’t worth the fight,” Vegeta said with a shrug. “How are you feeling? You scared the shit out of me, love.”

Piccolo slid his hand along Vegeta’s jaw and urged him toward Piccolo’s mouth. Vegeta leaned into Piccolo’s palm and moved carefully toward Piccolo. The kiss was just a press of lips as Vegeta breathed out his nose. It quickly escalated, Vegeta’s tongue seeking Piccolo’s, nipping at his bottom lip, and Vegeta’s hand cupped Piccolo’s face on the opposite side.

Before more could be said, the first wakeful growls of toddler Saimekians triggered more snarls, barks, bites, and finally the whole mass of them tumbled up onto the bed like a gollum made of babies instead of stone.

“Daddy!” several of them screamed in unison. 

Brola smacked Vega and Picca as they began crawling up Piccolo’s body. She snapped, “Naughty! You’ll hurt Daddy! He just had Uncle Broly and Uncle Nappa’s baby! Get off his legs!”

Picca’s little antennae quivered and he turned his big dark eyes to Piccolo and said, “Did I hurt you, Daddy? I just wanted snuggles!”

“I’m fine, nugget, but Brola’s right, I’m pretty sore. Come between me and Hoppi if you want a snuggle,” Piccolo said.

It took a long time to make sure all six of the babies got what the deemed the necessary amount of cuddles, and slobbery hybrid bite-kisses, and Piccolo made a note to talk to Vegeta about how to teach them to manage their tails a little better. Piccolo didn’t know if getting smacked in the face by wild, whipping, prehensile tails was just part of raising Saiyans, or if they would naturally get the hang of not wheeling them around like they were ceiling fans.

All six children told Vegeta they would make their own breakfast, which made Vegeta move to the kitchen _very_ quickly. Piccolo heard the racket of their six young “helping” with anything, but what made his heart twist was the woofing, snarling sound of an infant Saimekian. It was dull and barely audible. Piccolo knew without Namekian hearing, he wouldn’t have heard it at all, but he could hear the soft murmurings of Broly and Nappa cooing to the baby as they fed it.

“Love? Are you alright?” Vegeta said as he returned to Piccolo with breakfast and tea on a tray.

“I…Yeah. I just heard the baby. How long was I asleep?”

“A couple days,” Vegeta said.

“Did…did they name him yet? Have you seen him?” Piccolo asked.

“Yes, I’ve seen him, he’s adorable. You made another perfect baby using an entirely new method. You never cease to amaze, love,” Vegeta said with a sad smile.

“And…his name?” Piccolo needed to know they had named the baby. He felt that it would help him accept that he was _their_ baby.

Vegeta said, “They…well…they said if it wasn’t okay, they could change it, but…well…they named him Piccolo. They’re calling him Coley.”

Piccolo burst into tears. Vegeta crawled into the bed and wrapped carefully around him, kissing his temple. “They’re so happy, love. They’re just so happy. You’ve given them the best gift. He’ll be happy too.”

“I’m not ready to see him yet, sexy. I just…I’m not ready.”

“No, love. They said that they would wait. They’re happy being guarded and staying cloistered now, so there’s no worry on that front. I’ll guard them and take care of you and the babies.”

“Maybe…maybe we should go to the farmhouse so the kids can be feral?”

“I have to stay and guard, love. It’s…I know you think we’re all insane, but it’s important,” Vegeta said, sounding a little disappointed that Piccolo couldn’t grasp this simple concept.

Piccolo chuckled and nodded and got his tears under control. The brood came in and nested around Piccolo, all clamoring to tell him about their new cousin and how exciting it was that he had the same name as their daddy. Vegeta eventually herded them out and Piccolo heard him on the phone with the few brave Saiyans that occasionally babysat for them. Shortly after the calls, there was silence after the kerfuffle of the babies leaving the flat, probably for a park outing, and Piccolo slipped back into sleep.

When Piccolo woke the next morning, he didn’t think he could stand not seeing the baby any longer. He got out of bed, moving like an old man, and took a long shower, crying the entire time. He hoped shedding so many tears in private would help him hold it together in front of Nappa and Broly. When he emerged, Vegeta leaned in the doorway and said, “There’s no rush, love.”

“I know. I just…It’s fine. I’ll be okay. I need to make peace with it. I think seeing them so happy will make it easier than me hearing the baby and not seeing the baby,” Piccolo said as he carefully got dressed. His heart ached.

“Are you sure?” Vegeta said.

“Yeah. I’m sure. I want to meet my little namesake.”

Piccolo shuffled out to the living room and stood anxiously while Vegeta went to their suite and knocked. Piccolo heard murmuring, obviously trying to talk below Namekian range, and succeeding. He couldn’t understand the words. After a moment, he heard the happy chuffing noises of a freshly fed baby Saimekian.

Vegeta joined Piccolo first and kissed him, squeezed his waist. Nappa came out alone and after a moment, shirtless, strapping Broly followed with a fat little chunk of baby in his arms. The baby faced outward, his butt cupped in Broly’s big mitt, his little chest resting on the other. He squirmed happily and made more little noises. Piccolo fell in love, but his heart filled seeing Broly’s face as he ducked to smell his baby, pushing his face into the little black tuft of hair.

Broly’s eyes climbed up to meet Piccolo’s, full of love and fear. Tears spilled down Piccolo’s cheeks as he hugged Broly. Piccolo said nothing he didn’t know what to say, but Broly kissed his cheek and whispered, “Thank you.”

Piccolo nodded into Broly’s big shoulder and said, “Can I hold him?”

Broly’s anxiety was palpable and he said, “Piccolo, you’re sure?”

“Yeah, I want to hold my nephew,” Piccolo said, emphasizing that he knew the baby wasn’t his anymore.

Broly handed him over and Piccolo cradled him and looked down into his very Vegeta face with his little Piccolo antennae. Piccolo said, “And what is your name, little cub?”

Broly and Nappa exchanged a worried look and said, “He…is…we were hoping it would be okay if we name him Piccolo? We call him Coley.”

Piccolo held out a finger for Coley to grab and he took it in his already powerful grip and pulled it to his mouth to gum. Piccolo said, “Yeah, he looks like a little Coley, doesn’t he?”

Piccolo knew he shouldn’t keep the baby for long for this first, tenuous and trusting meeting. He handed him back to Broly, whose face collapsed into a sad smile. “He’s perfect, Piccolo. We can never thank you enough.”

Piccolo’s grin felt more genuine and he said, “See if you still thank me when he acts like Picca as much as he looks like Picca.”

They all laughed. Picca scampered out of the playroom having obviously heard his name. His tail pinwheeled behind him as he slid across the hardwood on Vega’s blanket. “Daddy! You met Coley! He looks like me!” Picca shimmied up Piccolo’s leg.

Nappa seized him by the ankle before he reached Piccolo’s broken parts and held him upside down, blowing on his tummy. Nappa growled, “You can’t climb on Daddy yet!” with another raspberry on Picca’s belly.

Picca giggled and Vegeta took him from Nappa. “Go play, nugget. What if your siblings find something fun without you?”

Picca squeaked, squirmed up onto Vegeta’s shoulder, and leapt down, somersaulting with surprising grace when he hit the floor. Nappa and Broly’s eyes went back to their own tiny replica of Picca. Nappa said, “It’s probably best if we just have the one.”

Broly nodded and kissed Nappa. Piccolo said, “You guys only want one?”

Another glance passed between the two giant Saiyans and they said, “We would rather have one and have you alive, than risk you for any more.”

Piccolo said, “I…I’m sure it would be—“

“No, Piccolo. Even if we wouldn’t miss you, we can’t live with ‘Geta if anything happened to you. Each labor things have gotten worse. Coley is enough for us. It’s not as if we’ll ever want for slobbery kisses and constant biting and tail assault. Coley will have his cousins, and he’ll be happy. We’re happy.”

Piccolo scrutinized them and thought that they really meant it. That Coley was enough for them, and maybe even more than they ever thought they would have. Piccolo said, “I’m so happy for both of you,” Piccolo gave Coley’s little toes a gently squeeze. “You’re lucky, Coley, these two will spoil you and love you and take such good care of you. And then all of your cousins will ruin all their hard work by turning you into a complete monster anyway.”

Broly chuckled and kissed Coley’s temple. Coley twisted his already strong little body around and nestled into Broly’s big arms and fell asleep. The sight warmed Piccolo’s heart and as Vegeta wrapped his arm around Piccolo’s waist, he could hear their own children giggling and thumping and probably getting into trouble, but Piccolo _was_ happy, and not just for Broly and Nappa, but for himself. For his little mate. For all of them, that they’d found their strange variety of family together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading my little AU. I had trouble ending this one, but hope it was okay. Ending is the hardest part and this was one that I probably could have just kept going and going, watching all the Saimekians grow up and imagining what the teenage years of Saimekians might be like, but I decided this was a better place to end things, so thank you for coming along for the ride!


End file.
